diff --git a/Samples/Beat7zip/Beat7zip.csproj b/Samples/Beat7zip/Beat7zip.csproj
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba5369a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/Beat7zip/Beat7zip.csproj
@@ -0,0 +1,13 @@
+
+
+
+ Exe
+ net8.0
+ true
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
diff --git a/Samples/Beat7zip/Program.cs b/Samples/Beat7zip/Program.cs
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..069b2c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/Beat7zip/Program.cs
@@ -0,0 +1,151 @@
+using RT.ArithmeticCoding;
+
+// Same as Beat7zipStandalone but uses RT.ArithmeticCoding
+
+namespace Beat7zip;
+
+class Program
+{
+ static void Main(string[] args)
+ {
+ if (args.Length < 3 || (args[0] != "c" && args[0] != "d"))
+ throw new Exception("Usage: test.exe [c|d] ");
+
+ var start = DateTime.UtcNow;
+ using (var input = File.Open(args[1], FileMode.Open, FileAccess.Read, FileShare.Read))
+ using (var output = File.Open(args[2], FileMode.Create, FileAccess.Write, FileShare.Read))
+ {
+ var context = new HistoryContext(8);
+ int symbol;
+
+ if (args[0] == "c")
+ {
+ var encoder = new ArithmeticCodingWriter(output, context);
+ while ((symbol = input.ReadByte()) >= 0)
+ {
+ encoder.WriteSymbol(symbol);
+ context.SymbolSeen((byte) symbol);
+ }
+ encoder.WriteSymbol(256);
+ encoder.Finalize();
+ }
+ else
+ {
+ var decoder = new ArithmeticCodingReader(input, context);
+ while ((symbol = decoder.ReadSymbol()) != 256)
+ {
+ output.WriteByte(checked((byte) symbol));
+ context.SymbolSeen((byte) symbol);
+ }
+ }
+ }
+ Console.WriteLine((DateTime.UtcNow - start).TotalSeconds);
+ }
+}
+
+class FixedByteQueue
+{
+ private byte[] _entries;
+ private int _next = 0;
+ public int Length => _entries.Length;
+ public FixedByteQueue(int length) { _entries = new byte[length]; }
+ public void Enqueue(byte entry) { _entries[_next] = entry; _next = (_next + 1) % _entries.Length; }
+ public byte this[int index] => _entries[(_next + index) % _entries.Length];
+}
+
+class Node
+{
+ public uint Frequency;
+ public uint TotalChildren;
+ public SortedDictionary Children = new SortedDictionary();
+
+ public void SequenceSeen(FixedByteQueue sequence, int offset, Node parent)
+ {
+ if (offset == sequence.Length)
+ {
+ Frequency++;
+ parent.TotalChildren++;
+ return;
+ }
+ if (!Children.ContainsKey(sequence[offset]))
+ Children.Add(sequence[offset], new Node());
+ Children[sequence[offset]].SequenceSeen(sequence, offset + 1, this);
+ }
+}
+
+class HistoryContext : ArithmeticSymbolContext
+{
+ private FixedByteQueue _history;
+ private Node _root = new Node();
+
+ private bool _computed = false;
+ private uint[] _frequencies = new uint[257];
+ private uint[] _positions = new uint[257];
+
+ public HistoryContext(int historyLengthLimit)
+ {
+ _history = new FixedByteQueue(historyLengthLimit);
+ }
+
+ public void SymbolSeen(byte symbol)
+ {
+ _computed = false;
+ _history.Enqueue(symbol);
+ for (int i = 0; i < _history.Length; i++)
+ _root.SequenceSeen(_history, i, null);
+ }
+
+ public override uint GetSymbolFrequency(int symbol)
+ {
+ if (symbol < 0 || symbol > 256)
+ return 0;
+ if (!_computed)
+ compute();
+ return _frequencies[symbol];
+ }
+
+ public override uint GetSymbolPosition(int symbol)
+ {
+ if (symbol <= 0)
+ return 0;
+ if (symbol > 256)
+ return GetTotal();
+ if (!_computed)
+ compute();
+ return _positions[symbol];
+ }
+
+ public override uint GetTotal()
+ {
+ if (!_computed)
+ compute();
+ return _positions[256] + _frequencies[256];
+ }
+
+ private void compute()
+ {
+ for (int i = 0; i < _frequencies.Length; i++)
+ _frequencies[i] = 1;
+ for (int length = 0; length < _history.Length; length++)
+ addHistoryFrequencies(length);
+
+ _positions[0] = 0;
+ for (int i = 1; i < _positions.Length; i++)
+ _positions[i] = checked(_positions[i - 1] + _frequencies[i - 1]);
+
+ _computed = true;
+ }
+
+ private void addHistoryFrequencies(int length)
+ {
+ var node = _root;
+ for (int i = _history.Length - length; i < _history.Length; i++)
+ {
+ if (!node.Children.ContainsKey(_history[i]))
+ return;
+ node = node.Children[_history[i]];
+ }
+ foreach (var child in node.Children)
+ _frequencies[child.Key] += (uint) (20_000.0 * child.Value.Frequency / node.TotalChildren * (0.17 + 2 * length));
+ }
+}
diff --git a/Samples/Beat7zipStandalone/Beat7zipStandalone.csproj b/Samples/Beat7zipStandalone/Beat7zipStandalone.csproj
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ddd4e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/Beat7zipStandalone/Beat7zipStandalone.csproj
@@ -0,0 +1,9 @@
+
+
+
+ Exe
+ net8.0
+ true
+
+
+
diff --git a/Samples/Beat7zipStandalone/Program.cs b/Samples/Beat7zipStandalone/Program.cs
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..92804bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/Beat7zipStandalone/Program.cs
@@ -0,0 +1,244 @@
+// This stand-alone program showcases the power of arithmetic coding when coupled with a somewhat good symbol predictor,
+// and is able to beat 7-Zip LZMA (its default algorithm) on ultra, at least on text files. It approaches PPMd compression ratios.
+// It is, of course, infinitely slower than either of these 7-Zip implementations, but is also comparatively tiny.
+
+namespace Beat7zipStandalone;
+
+class Program
+{
+ static void Main(string[] args)
+ {
+ if (args.Length < 3 || (args[0] != "c" && args[0] != "d"))
+ throw new Exception("Usage: program.exe [c|d] ");
+
+ new Program().Process(compress: args[0] == "c", args[1], args[2], historyLength: 8);
+ }
+
+ private ulong _high = 0xFFFF_FFFF;
+ private ulong _low = 0;
+ private ulong _code;
+ private int _underflow = 0;
+ private int _curbyte = 1;
+
+ private FixedByteQueue _history;
+ private Node _root = new Node();
+ private uint[] _frequencies = new uint[257];
+ private uint[] _positions = new uint[257];
+
+ private Stream _inputStream, _outputStream;
+
+ public void Process(bool compress, string inputFile, string outputFile, int historyLength)
+ {
+ using (_inputStream = File.Open(inputFile, FileMode.Open, FileAccess.Read, FileShare.Read))
+ using (_outputStream = File.Open(outputFile, FileMode.Create, FileAccess.Write, FileShare.Read))
+ {
+ _history = new FixedByteQueue(historyLength);
+ int symbol;
+
+ if (compress)
+ {
+ while ((symbol = _inputStream.ReadByte()) >= 0)
+ {
+ writeSymbol(symbol);
+ symbolSeen((byte) symbol);
+ }
+ writeSymbol(256);
+ writeLast();
+ }
+ else
+ {
+ readFirst();
+ while ((symbol = readSymbol()) != 256)
+ {
+ _outputStream.WriteByte(checked((byte) symbol));
+ symbolSeen((byte) symbol);
+ }
+ }
+ }
+ }
+
+ // --- Write to arithmetic coded stream --- //
+
+ private void writeSymbol(int symbol)
+ {
+ recomputeSymbolFrequencies();
+
+ ulong total = _positions[256] + _frequencies[256];
+ ulong newlow = checked((_high - _low + 1) * _positions[symbol] / total + _low);
+ _high = checked((_high - _low + 1) * (_positions[symbol] + _frequencies[symbol]) / total + _low - 1);
+ _low = newlow;
+
+ while ((_high & 0x8000_0000) == (_low & 0x8000_0000))
+ {
+ outputBit((_high & 0x8000_0000) != 0);
+ while (_underflow > 0)
+ {
+ outputBit((_high & 0x8000_0000) == 0);
+ _underflow--;
+ }
+ _high = ((_high << 1) & 0xFFFF_FFFF) | 1;
+ _low = (_low << 1) & 0xFFFF_FFFF;
+ }
+
+ while (((_low & 0x4000_0000) != 0) && ((_high & 0x4000_0000) == 0))
+ {
+ _underflow++;
+ _high = ((_high & 0x7FFF_FFFF) << 1) | 0x8000_0001;
+ _low = (_low << 1) & 0x7FFF_FFFF;
+ }
+ }
+
+ private void writeLast()
+ {
+ outputBit((_low & 0x4000_0000) != 0);
+ _underflow++;
+ while (_underflow > 0)
+ {
+ outputBit((_low & 0x4000_0000) == 0);
+ _underflow--;
+ }
+ if (_curbyte != 1)
+ {
+ while (_curbyte < 0x100)
+ _curbyte <<= 1;
+ _outputStream.WriteByte((byte) _curbyte);
+ }
+ _outputStream.WriteByte(0x51);
+ _outputStream.WriteByte(0x51);
+ _outputStream.WriteByte(0x51);
+ _outputStream.WriteByte(0x50);
+ }
+
+ private void outputBit(bool p)
+ {
+ _curbyte <<= 1;
+ if (p)
+ _curbyte++;
+ if (_curbyte >= 0x100)
+ {
+ _outputStream.WriteByte((byte) _curbyte);
+ _curbyte = 1;
+ }
+ }
+
+ // --- Read from arithmetic coded stream --- //
+
+ private void readFirst()
+ {
+ _curbyte = 0x10000;
+ _code = (uint) _inputStream.ReadByte() << 24;
+ _code |= (uint) _inputStream.ReadByte() << 16;
+ _code |= (uint) _inputStream.ReadByte() << 8;
+ _code |= (uint) _inputStream.ReadByte();
+ }
+
+ private int readSymbol()
+ {
+ recomputeSymbolFrequencies();
+ ulong total = _positions[256] + _frequencies[256];
+
+ while ((_high & 0x8000_0000) == (_low & 0x8000_0000))
+ {
+ _high = ((_high << 1) & 0xFFFF_FFFF) | 1;
+ _low = (_low << 1) & 0xFFFF_FFFF;
+ _code = (_code << 1) & 0xFFFF_FFFF;
+ if (readBit()) _code++;
+ }
+
+ while (((_low & 0x4000_0000) != 0) && ((_high & 0x4000_0000) == 0))
+ {
+ _high = ((_high & 0x7FFF_FFFF) << 1) | 0x8000_0001;
+ _low = (_low << 1) & 0x7FFF_FFFF;
+ _code = ((_code & 0x7FFF_FFFF) ^ 0x4000_0000) << 1;
+ if (readBit()) _code++;
+ }
+
+ ulong pos = checked(((_code - _low + 1) * total - 1) / (_high - _low + 1));
+ int symbol = 0;
+ ulong postmp = pos;
+ while (postmp >= _frequencies[symbol])
+ {
+ postmp -= _frequencies[symbol];
+ symbol++;
+ }
+ pos -= postmp;
+
+ ulong newlow = (_high - _low + 1) * pos / total + _low;
+ _high = (_high - _low + 1) * (pos + _frequencies[symbol]) / total + _low - 1;
+ _low = newlow;
+
+ return symbol;
+ }
+
+ private bool readBit()
+ {
+ if (_curbyte >= 0x10000)
+ _curbyte = _inputStream.ReadByte() | 0x100;
+ _curbyte <<= 1;
+ return (_curbyte & 0x100) != 0;
+ }
+
+ // --- Symbol frequency tracking / probability prediction --- //
+
+ private void symbolSeen(byte symbol)
+ {
+ _history.Enqueue(symbol);
+ for (int i = 0; i < _history.Length; i++)
+ _root.SequenceSeen(_history, i, null);
+ }
+
+ private void recomputeSymbolFrequencies()
+ {
+ for (int i = 0; i < _frequencies.Length; i++)
+ _frequencies[i] = 1;
+ for (int length = 0; length < _history.Length; length++)
+ addHistoryFrequencies(length);
+
+ _positions[0] = 0;
+ for (int i = 1; i < _positions.Length; i++)
+ _positions[i] = checked(_positions[i - 1] + _frequencies[i - 1]);
+ }
+
+ private void addHistoryFrequencies(int length)
+ {
+ var node = _root;
+ for (int i = _history.Length - length; i < _history.Length; i++)
+ {
+ if (!node.Children.ContainsKey(_history[i]))
+ return;
+ node = node.Children[_history[i]];
+ }
+ foreach (var child in node.Children)
+ _frequencies[child.Key] += (uint) (20_000.0 * child.Value.Frequency / node.TotalChildren * (0.17 + 2 * length));
+ }
+
+ class FixedByteQueue
+ {
+ private byte[] _entries;
+ private int _next = 0;
+ public int Length => _entries.Length;
+ public FixedByteQueue(int length) { _entries = new byte[length]; }
+ public void Enqueue(byte entry) { _entries[_next] = entry; _next = (_next + 1) % _entries.Length; }
+ public byte this[int index] => _entries[(_next + index) % _entries.Length];
+ }
+
+ class Node
+ {
+ public uint Frequency;
+ public uint TotalChildren;
+ public SortedDictionary Children = new SortedDictionary();
+
+ public void SequenceSeen(FixedByteQueue sequence, int offset, Node parent)
+ {
+ if (offset == sequence.Length)
+ {
+ Frequency++;
+ parent.TotalChildren++;
+ return;
+ }
+ if (!Children.ContainsKey(sequence[offset]))
+ Children.Add(sequence[offset], new Node());
+ Children[sequence[offset]].SequenceSeen(sequence, offset + 1, this);
+ }
+ }
+}
diff --git a/Samples/Samples.sln b/Samples/Samples.sln
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a04149e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/Samples.sln
@@ -0,0 +1,37 @@
+
+Microsoft Visual Studio Solution File, Format Version 12.00
+# Visual Studio Version 17
+VisualStudioVersion = 17.8.34330.188
+MinimumVisualStudioVersion = 10.0.40219.1
+Project("{9A19103F-16F7-4668-BE54-9A1E7A4F7556}") = "RT.ArithmeticCoding", "..\Src\RT.ArithmeticCoding.csproj", "{FD80FE59-6217-444E-AAD6-E5C9D681E218}"
+EndProject
+Project("{9A19103F-16F7-4668-BE54-9A1E7A4F7556}") = "Beat7zip", "Beat7zip\Beat7zip.csproj", "{2061F1C1-EC12-45D5-9BB7-C0B8B2CC854B}"
+EndProject
+Project("{9A19103F-16F7-4668-BE54-9A1E7A4F7556}") = "Beat7zipStandalone", "Beat7zipStandalone\Beat7zipStandalone.csproj", "{811D267E-B964-49A4-9130-8E7EED65DF47}"
+EndProject
+Global
+ GlobalSection(SolutionConfigurationPlatforms) = preSolution
+ Debug|Any CPU = Debug|Any CPU
+ Release|Any CPU = Release|Any CPU
+ EndGlobalSection
+ GlobalSection(ProjectConfigurationPlatforms) = postSolution
+ {FD80FE59-6217-444E-AAD6-E5C9D681E218}.Debug|Any CPU.ActiveCfg = Debug|Any CPU
+ {FD80FE59-6217-444E-AAD6-E5C9D681E218}.Debug|Any CPU.Build.0 = Debug|Any CPU
+ {FD80FE59-6217-444E-AAD6-E5C9D681E218}.Release|Any CPU.ActiveCfg = Release|Any CPU
+ {FD80FE59-6217-444E-AAD6-E5C9D681E218}.Release|Any CPU.Build.0 = Release|Any CPU
+ {2061F1C1-EC12-45D5-9BB7-C0B8B2CC854B}.Debug|Any CPU.ActiveCfg = Debug|Any CPU
+ {2061F1C1-EC12-45D5-9BB7-C0B8B2CC854B}.Debug|Any CPU.Build.0 = Debug|Any CPU
+ {2061F1C1-EC12-45D5-9BB7-C0B8B2CC854B}.Release|Any CPU.ActiveCfg = Release|Any CPU
+ {2061F1C1-EC12-45D5-9BB7-C0B8B2CC854B}.Release|Any CPU.Build.0 = Release|Any CPU
+ {811D267E-B964-49A4-9130-8E7EED65DF47}.Debug|Any CPU.ActiveCfg = Debug|Any CPU
+ {811D267E-B964-49A4-9130-8E7EED65DF47}.Debug|Any CPU.Build.0 = Debug|Any CPU
+ {811D267E-B964-49A4-9130-8E7EED65DF47}.Release|Any CPU.ActiveCfg = Release|Any CPU
+ {811D267E-B964-49A4-9130-8E7EED65DF47}.Release|Any CPU.Build.0 = Release|Any CPU
+ EndGlobalSection
+ GlobalSection(SolutionProperties) = preSolution
+ HideSolutionNode = FALSE
+ EndGlobalSection
+ GlobalSection(ExtensibilityGlobals) = postSolution
+ SolutionGuid = {E63E706F-078E-475C-AA4E-8EA7347F73FC}
+ EndGlobalSection
+EndGlobal
diff --git a/Samples/benchmark.bat b/Samples/benchmark.bat
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a2d71c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/benchmark.bat
@@ -0,0 +1,12 @@
+rem 212,279 bytes, 93ms:
+C:\Apps\7Zip\7z a -mx9 prejudice.ultra.7z prejudice.txt
+
+rem 164,086 bytes, 61ms:
+C:\Apps\7Zip\7z a -m0=PPMd prejudice.ppmd.7z prejudice.txt
+
+dotnet publish --configuration Release Beat7zip\Beat7zip.csproj
+dotnet publish --configuration Release Beat7zipStandalone\Beat7zipStandalone.csproj
+
+rem 171,553 bytes, 5100ms:
+..\Builds\Release-publish\Beat7zip.exe c prejudice.txt prejudice.beat.bin
+..\Builds\Release-publish\Beat7zipStandalone.exe c prejudice.txt prejudice.beatsa.bin
diff --git a/Samples/prejudice.txt b/Samples/prejudice.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c3de8d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/Samples/prejudice.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,13427 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Pride and Prejudice
+
+Author: Jane Austen
+
+Posting Date: August 26, 2008 [EBook #1342]
+Release Date: June, 1998
+Last Updated: October 17, 2016
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Anonymous Volunteers
+
+
+
+
+
+PRIDE AND PREJUDICE
+
+By Jane Austen
+
+
+
+Chapter 1
+
+
+It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession
+of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.
+
+However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his
+first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds
+of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property
+of some one or other of their daughters.
+
+“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that
+Netherfield Park is let at last?”
+
+Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
+
+“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she
+told me all about it.”
+
+Mr. Bennet made no answer.
+
+“Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently.
+
+“_You_ want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”
+
+This was invitation enough.
+
+“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken
+by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came
+down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much
+delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he
+is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to
+be in the house by the end of next week.”
+
+“What is his name?”
+
+“Bingley.”
+
+“Is he married or single?”
+
+“Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or
+five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”
+
+“How so? How can it affect them?”
+
+“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You
+must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”
+
+“Is that his design in settling here?”
+
+“Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he
+_may_ fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as
+soon as he comes.”
+
+“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send
+them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are
+as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the
+party.”
+
+“My dear, you flatter me. I certainly _have_ had my share of beauty, but
+I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five
+grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”
+
+“In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.”
+
+“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into
+the neighbourhood.”
+
+“It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”
+
+“But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would
+be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to
+go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no
+newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for _us_ to
+visit him if you do not.”
+
+“You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very
+glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my
+hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though
+I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”
+
+“I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the
+others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so
+good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving _her_ the preference.”
+
+“They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are
+all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of
+quickness than her sisters.”
+
+“Mr. Bennet, how _can_ you abuse your own children in such a way? You
+take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.”
+
+“You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They
+are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration
+these last twenty years at least.”
+
+“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”
+
+“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four
+thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”
+
+“It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not
+visit them.”
+
+“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them
+all.”
+
+Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour,
+reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had
+been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. _Her_ mind
+was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding,
+little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented,
+she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her
+daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.
+
+
+
+Chapter 2
+
+
+Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He
+had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring
+his wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was
+paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following
+manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he
+suddenly addressed her with:
+
+“I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”
+
+“We are not in a way to know _what_ Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother
+resentfully, “since we are not to visit.”
+
+“But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the
+assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him.”
+
+“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces
+of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion
+of her.”
+
+“No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do
+not depend on her serving you.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain
+herself, began scolding one of her daughters.
+
+“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake! Have a little
+compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”
+
+“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times
+them ill.”
+
+“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully. “When is
+your next ball to be, Lizzy?”
+
+“To-morrow fortnight.”
+
+“Aye, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back
+till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him,
+for she will not know him herself.”
+
+“Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce
+Mr. Bingley to _her_.”
+
+“Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him
+myself; how can you be so teasing?”
+
+“I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly
+very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a
+fortnight. But if _we_ do not venture somebody else will; and after all,
+Mrs. Long and her neices must stand their chance; and, therefore, as
+she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will
+take it on myself.”
+
+The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense,
+nonsense!”
+
+“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do
+you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on
+them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you _there_. What say you,
+Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read
+great books and make extracts.”
+
+Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.
+
+“While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr.
+Bingley.”
+
+“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.
+
+“I am sorry to hear _that_; but why did not you tell me that before? If
+I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called
+on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we
+cannot escape the acquaintance now.”
+
+The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs.
+Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy
+was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the
+while.
+
+“How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should
+persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to
+neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a
+good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a
+word about it till now.”
+
+“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and,
+as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.
+
+“What an excellent father you have, girls!” said she, when the door was
+shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness;
+or me, either, for that matter. At our time of life it is not so
+pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but
+for your sakes, we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you _are_
+the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next
+ball.”
+
+“Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I _am_ the
+youngest, I’m the tallest.”
+
+The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would
+return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to
+dinner.
+
+
+
+Chapter 3
+
+
+Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five
+daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her
+husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him
+in various ways--with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and
+distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at
+last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour,
+Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been
+delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely
+agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly
+with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of
+dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively
+hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.
+
+“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,”
+ said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well
+married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”
+
+In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about
+ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being
+admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had
+heard much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more
+fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper
+window that he wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse.
+
+An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already
+had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her
+housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley
+was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable
+to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite
+disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town
+so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that
+he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never
+settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears
+a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get
+a large party for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley
+was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly.
+The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the
+day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only
+six with him from London--his five sisters and a cousin. And when
+the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five
+altogether--Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and
+another young man.
+
+Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant
+countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women,
+with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely
+looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention
+of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and
+the report which was in general circulation within five minutes
+after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen
+pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he
+was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great
+admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust
+which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be
+proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all
+his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most
+forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared
+with his friend.
+
+Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal
+people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance,
+was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving
+one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for
+themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced
+only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being
+introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in
+walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party.
+His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man
+in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again.
+Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of
+his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his
+having slighted one of her daughters.
+
+Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit
+down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been
+standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr.
+Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend
+to join it.
+
+“Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you
+standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better
+dance.”
+
+“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am
+particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this
+it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not
+another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to
+stand up with.”
+
+“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr. Bingley, “for a
+kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in
+my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see
+uncommonly pretty.”
+
+“_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr.
+Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
+
+“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one
+of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I
+dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”
+
+“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at
+Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said:
+“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt _me_; I am in no
+humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted
+by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her
+smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
+
+Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth
+remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story,
+however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively,
+playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.
+
+The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs.
+Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield
+party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been
+distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as
+her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s
+pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most
+accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been
+fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they
+had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good
+spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they
+were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With
+a book he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a
+good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised
+such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife’s views on
+the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found out that he had a
+different story to hear.
+
+“Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most
+delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there.
+Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well
+she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with
+her twice! Only think of _that_, my dear; he actually danced with her
+twice! and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second
+time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand
+up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody
+can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going
+down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and
+asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King,
+and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again,
+and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the _Boulanger_--”
+
+“If he had had any compassion for _me_,” cried her husband impatiently,
+“he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of
+his partners. Oh that he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!”
+
+“Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively
+handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw
+anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs.
+Hurst’s gown--”
+
+Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any
+description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch
+of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some
+exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.
+
+“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not
+suiting _his_ fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at
+all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring
+him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very
+great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my
+dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 4
+
+
+When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in
+her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very
+much she admired him.
+
+“He is just what a young man ought to be,” said she, “sensible,
+good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!--so much
+ease, with such perfect good breeding!”
+
+“He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought
+likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”
+
+“I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I
+did not expect such a compliment.”
+
+“Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between
+us. Compliments always take _you_ by surprise, and _me_ never. What
+could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help
+seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman
+in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is
+very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a
+stupider person.”
+
+“Dear Lizzy!”
+
+“Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general.
+You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable
+in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your
+life.”
+
+“I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak
+what I think.”
+
+“I know you do; and it is _that_ which makes the wonder. With _your_
+good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of
+others! Affectation of candour is common enough--one meets with it
+everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design--to take the
+good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing
+of the bad--belongs to you alone. And so you like this man’s sisters,
+too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.”
+
+“Certainly not--at first. But they are very pleasing women when you
+converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep
+his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming
+neighbour in her.”
+
+Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; their behaviour at
+the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more
+quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister,
+and with a judgement too unassailed by any attention to herself, she
+was very little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine
+ladies; not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the
+power of making themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and
+conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the
+first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand
+pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of
+associating with people of rank, and were therefore in every respect
+entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of
+a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply
+impressed on their memories than that their brother’s fortune and their
+own had been acquired by trade.
+
+Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred
+thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an
+estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and
+sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a
+good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those
+who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the
+remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to
+purchase.
+
+His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but,
+though he was now only established as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no
+means unwilling to preside at his table--nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had
+married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider
+his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of
+age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation
+to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for
+half-an-hour--was pleased with the situation and the principal
+rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it
+immediately.
+
+Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of
+great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the
+easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition
+could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he
+never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley
+had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion.
+In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means
+deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty,
+reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not
+inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley
+was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually
+giving offense.
+
+The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently
+characteristic. Bingley had never met with more pleasant people or
+prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive
+to him; there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt
+acquainted with all the room; and, as to Miss Bennet, he could not
+conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a
+collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for
+none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received
+either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty,
+but she smiled too much.
+
+Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so--but still they admired
+her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one
+whom they would not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore
+established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such
+commendation to think of her as he chose.
+
+
+
+Chapter 5
+
+
+Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets
+were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade
+in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the
+honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty.
+The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a
+disgust to his business, and to his residence in a small market town;
+and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house
+about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge,
+where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and,
+unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all
+the world. For, though elated by his rank, it did not render him
+supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By
+nature inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St.
+James’s had made him courteous.
+
+Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a
+valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several children. The eldest
+of them, a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was
+Elizabeth’s intimate friend.
+
+That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over
+a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly
+brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.
+
+“_You_ began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet with civil
+self-command to Miss Lucas. “_You_ were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”
+
+“Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.”
+
+“Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be
+sure that _did_ seem as if he admired her--indeed I rather believe he
+_did_--I heard something about it--but I hardly know what--something
+about Mr. Robinson.”
+
+“Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not
+I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson’s asking him how he liked our Meryton
+assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many
+pretty women in the room, and _which_ he thought the prettiest? and his
+answering immediately to the last question: ‘Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet,
+beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point.’”
+
+“Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed--that does seem as
+if--but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”
+
+“_My_ overhearings were more to the purpose than _yours_, Eliza,” said
+Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend,
+is he?--poor Eliza!--to be only just _tolerable_.”
+
+“I beg you would not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his
+ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it would be quite
+a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he
+sat close to her for half-an-hour without once opening his lips.”
+
+“Are you quite sure, ma’am?--is not there a little mistake?” said Jane.
+“I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”
+
+“Aye--because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he
+could not help answering her; but she said he seemed quite angry at
+being spoke to.”
+
+“Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much,
+unless among his intimate acquaintances. With _them_ he is remarkably
+agreeable.”
+
+“I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very
+agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it
+was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had
+heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to
+the ball in a hack chaise.”
+
+“I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I
+wish he had danced with Eliza.”
+
+“Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with _him_,
+if I were you.”
+
+“I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you _never_ to dance with him.”
+
+“His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend _me_ so much as pride
+often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so
+very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour,
+should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a _right_
+to be proud.”
+
+“That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive
+_his_ pride, if he had not mortified _mine_.”
+
+“Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her
+reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have
+ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human
+nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us
+who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some
+quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different
+things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may
+be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of
+ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”
+
+“If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with
+his sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of
+foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a day.”
+
+“Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs.
+Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle
+directly.”
+
+The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she
+would, and the argument ended only with the visit.
+
+
+
+Chapter 6
+
+
+The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit
+was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manners grew on
+the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was
+found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to,
+a wish of being better acquainted with _them_ was expressed towards
+the two eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the greatest
+pleasure, but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment
+of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them;
+though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in
+all probability from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It
+was generally evident whenever they met, that he _did_ admire her and
+to _her_ it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference
+which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a
+way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it
+was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane
+united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a
+uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions
+of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.
+
+“It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose
+on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be
+so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill
+from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and
+it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in
+the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every
+attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all
+_begin_ freely--a slight preference is natural enough; but there are
+very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without
+encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show _more_
+affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he
+may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”
+
+“But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can
+perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to
+discover it too.”
+
+“Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”
+
+“But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal
+it, he must find it out.”
+
+“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley and Jane
+meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they
+always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that
+every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should
+therefore make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his
+attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for
+falling in love as much as she chooses.”
+
+“Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in
+question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined
+to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But
+these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet,
+she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its
+reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four
+dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house,
+and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite
+enough to make her understand his character.”
+
+“Not as you represent it. Had she merely _dined_ with him, she might
+only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must
+remember that four evenings have also been spent together--and four
+evenings may do a great deal.”
+
+“Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they
+both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other
+leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”
+
+“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and
+if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a
+chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a
+twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If
+the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or
+ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the
+least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to
+have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as
+possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your
+life.”
+
+“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not
+sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”
+
+Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attentions to her sister, Elizabeth
+was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some
+interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely
+allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the
+ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no
+sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly
+had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered
+uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To
+this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had
+detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry
+in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and
+pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those
+of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of
+this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made
+himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough
+to dance with.
+
+He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing
+with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so
+drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were
+assembled.
+
+“What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my
+conversation with Colonel Forster?”
+
+“That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”
+
+“But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see
+what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by
+being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”
+
+On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have
+any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such
+a subject to him; which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she
+turned to him and said:
+
+“Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly
+well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at
+Meryton?”
+
+“With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady
+energetic.”
+
+“You are severe on us.”
+
+“It will be _her_ turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going
+to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”
+
+“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!--always wanting me
+to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken
+a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would
+really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of
+hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however,
+she added, “Very well, if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing
+at Mr. Darcy, “There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of
+course familiar with: ‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge’; and I
+shall keep mine to swell my song.”
+
+Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song
+or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that
+she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her
+sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in
+the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always
+impatient for display.
+
+Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her
+application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited
+manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she
+had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with
+much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the
+end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by
+Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who,
+with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in
+dancing at one end of the room.
+
+Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of
+passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too
+much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was
+his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:
+
+“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There
+is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first
+refinements of polished society.”
+
+“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst
+the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.”
+
+Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he
+continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt
+not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”
+
+“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”
+
+“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do
+you often dance at St. James’s?”
+
+“Never, sir.”
+
+“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”
+
+“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”
+
+“You have a house in town, I conclude?”
+
+Mr. Darcy bowed.
+
+“I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself--for I am fond
+of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of
+London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
+
+He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed
+to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was
+struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to
+her:
+
+“My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow
+me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You
+cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.”
+ And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy who, though
+extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly
+drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William:
+
+“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you
+not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”
+
+Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of
+her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at
+all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.
+
+“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny
+me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the
+amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us
+for one half-hour.”
+
+“Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling.
+
+“He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza,
+we cannot wonder at his complaisance--for who would object to such a
+partner?”
+
+Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not
+injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some
+complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley:
+
+“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”
+
+“I should imagine not.”
+
+“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings
+in this manner--in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion.
+I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise--the
+nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would
+I give to hear your strictures on them!”
+
+“Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more
+agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure
+which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”
+
+Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he
+would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.
+Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity:
+
+“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
+
+“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment.
+How long has she been such a favourite?--and pray, when am I to wish you
+joy?”
+
+“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s
+imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love
+to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”
+
+“Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is
+absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed;
+and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.”
+
+He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to
+entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her
+that all was safe, her wit flowed long.
+
+
+
+Chapter 7
+
+
+Mr. Bennet’s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two
+thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed,
+in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s
+fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply
+the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and
+had left her four thousand pounds.
+
+She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to
+their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in
+London in a respectable line of trade.
+
+The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most
+convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted
+thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and
+to a milliner’s shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family,
+Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions;
+their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing
+better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning
+hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news
+the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some
+from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with
+news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the
+neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the
+headquarters.
+
+Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most
+interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge
+of the officers’ names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a
+secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr.
+Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of
+felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and
+Mr. Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation
+to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the
+regimentals of an ensign.
+
+After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr.
+Bennet coolly observed:
+
+“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two
+of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but
+I am now convinced.”
+
+Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect
+indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter,
+and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the
+next morning to London.
+
+“I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so
+ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly
+of anybody’s children, it should not be of my own, however.”
+
+“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”
+
+“Yes--but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.”
+
+“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I
+had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must
+so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly
+foolish.”
+
+“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of
+their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will
+not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when
+I liked a red coat myself very well--and, indeed, so I do still at my
+heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year,
+should want one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought
+Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in
+his regimentals.”
+
+“Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain
+Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first
+came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with
+a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited
+for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was
+eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,
+
+“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well,
+Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”
+
+“It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud.
+
+“MY DEAR FRIEND,--
+
+“If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me,
+we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives,
+for a whole day’s tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a
+quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the
+gentlemen are to dine with the officers.--Yours ever,
+
+“CAROLINE BINGLEY”
+
+“With the officers!” cried Lydia. “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of
+_that_.”
+
+“Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that is very unlucky.”
+
+“Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.
+
+“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to
+rain; and then you must stay all night.”
+
+“That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that
+they would not offer to send her home.”
+
+“Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton,
+and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”
+
+“I had much rather go in the coach.”
+
+“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are
+wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?”
+
+“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”
+
+“But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose
+will be answered.”
+
+She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses
+were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her
+mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a
+bad day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before
+it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was
+delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission;
+Jane certainly could not come back.
+
+“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet more than
+once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the
+next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her
+contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield
+brought the following note for Elizabeth:
+
+“MY DEAREST LIZZY,--
+
+“I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be
+imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not
+hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr.
+Jones--therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been
+to me--and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the
+matter with me.--Yours, etc.”
+
+“Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note
+aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness--if she
+should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of
+Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”
+
+“Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling
+colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is
+all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage.”
+
+Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though
+the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking
+was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.
+
+“How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a
+thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get
+there.”
+
+“I shall be very fit to see Jane--which is all I want.”
+
+“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the
+horses?”
+
+“No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing
+when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”
+
+“I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every
+impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion,
+exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”
+
+“We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia.
+Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off
+together.
+
+“If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may
+see something of Captain Carter before he goes.”
+
+In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one
+of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing
+field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing
+over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last
+within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face
+glowing with the warmth of exercise.
+
+She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were
+assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise.
+That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such
+dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and
+Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt
+for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their
+brother’s manners there was something better than politeness; there
+was good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr.
+Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the
+brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as
+to the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was
+thinking only of his breakfast.
+
+Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss
+Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not
+well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her
+immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving
+alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed
+for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal,
+however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them
+together, could attempt little besides expressions of gratitude for the
+extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended
+her.
+
+When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth
+began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and
+solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having
+examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught
+a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it;
+advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice
+was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head
+ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor were
+the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had, in
+fact, nothing to do elsewhere.
+
+When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very
+unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only
+wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern
+in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer
+of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present.
+Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to
+Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply
+of clothes.
+
+
+
+Chapter 8
+
+
+At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six
+Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then
+poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the
+much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley’s, she could not make a very
+favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing
+this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how
+shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked
+being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their
+indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them restored
+Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her former dislike.
+
+Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could
+regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his
+attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling
+herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the
+others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was
+engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr.
+Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to
+eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found her to prefer a plain
+dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.
+
+When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley
+began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were
+pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence;
+she had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the
+same, and added:
+
+“She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent
+walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really
+looked almost wild.”
+
+“She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very
+nonsensical to come at all! Why must _she_ be scampering about the
+country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!”
+
+“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep
+in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to
+hide it not doing its office.”
+
+“Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was
+all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably
+well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite
+escaped my notice.”
+
+“_You_ observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am
+inclined to think that you would not wish to see _your_ sister make such
+an exhibition.”
+
+“Certainly not.”
+
+“To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is,
+above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by
+it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence,
+a most country-town indifference to decorum.”
+
+“It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said
+Bingley.
+
+“I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, “that
+this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.”
+
+“Not at all,” he replied; “they were brightened by the exercise.” A
+short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again:
+
+“I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very
+sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with
+such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is
+no chance of it.”
+
+“I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in
+Meryton.”
+
+“Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”
+
+“That is capital,” added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.
+
+“If they had uncles enough to fill _all_ Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it
+would not make them one jot less agreeable.”
+
+“But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any
+consideration in the world,” replied Darcy.
+
+To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their
+hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of
+their dear friend’s vulgar relations.
+
+With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her room on
+leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee.
+She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till
+late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep, and
+when it seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go
+downstairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole
+party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting
+them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the
+excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay
+below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.
+
+“Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”
+
+“Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great
+reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”
+
+“I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am
+_not_ a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”
+
+“In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and
+I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well.”
+
+Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards the
+table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her
+others--all that his library afforded.
+
+“And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own
+credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more
+than I ever looked into.”
+
+Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those
+in the room.
+
+“I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left
+so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at
+Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”
+
+“It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many
+generations.”
+
+“And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying
+books.”
+
+“I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as
+these.”
+
+“Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of
+that noble place. Charles, when you build _your_ house, I wish it may be
+half as delightful as Pemberley.”
+
+“I wish it may.”
+
+“But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that
+neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a
+finer county in England than Derbyshire.”
+
+“With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.”
+
+“I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”
+
+“Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get
+Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”
+
+Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her very
+little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew
+near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his
+eldest sister, to observe the game.
+
+“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley; “will
+she be as tall as I am?”
+
+“I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or
+rather taller.”
+
+“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me
+so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished
+for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”
+
+“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience
+to be so very accomplished as they all are.”
+
+“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”
+
+“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and
+net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure
+I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being
+informed that she was very accomplished.”
+
+“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has
+too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no
+otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very
+far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I
+cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my
+acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”
+
+“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.
+
+“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your
+idea of an accomplished woman.”
+
+“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”
+
+“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really
+esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met
+with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing,
+dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides
+all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of
+walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word
+will be but half-deserved.”
+
+“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must
+yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by
+extensive reading.”
+
+“I am no longer surprised at your knowing _only_ six accomplished women.
+I rather wonder now at your knowing _any_.”
+
+“Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all
+this?”
+
+“I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and
+application, and elegance, as you describe united.”
+
+Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her
+implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who
+answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with
+bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all
+conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the
+room.
+
+“Elizabeth Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her,
+“is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the
+other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it
+succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”
+
+“Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed,
+“there is a meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies sometimes condescend
+to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is
+despicable.”
+
+Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to
+continue the subject.
+
+Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and
+that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for
+immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could
+be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most
+eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so
+unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled
+that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet
+were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters
+declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness,
+however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief
+to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every
+attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.
+
+
+
+Chapter 9
+
+
+Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room, and in the
+morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the
+inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid,
+and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his
+sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a
+note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her
+own judgement of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and
+its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her
+two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.
+
+Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been
+very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was
+not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her
+restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She
+would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried
+home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think
+it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss
+Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all
+attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes
+that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.
+
+“Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be
+moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass
+a little longer on your kindness.”
+
+“Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am
+sure, will not hear of her removal.”
+
+“You may depend upon it, Madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility,
+“that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she
+remains with us.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.
+
+“I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends I do not
+know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers
+a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is
+always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest
+temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are
+nothing to _her_. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a
+charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the
+country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it
+in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”
+
+“Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I
+should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five
+minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”
+
+“That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.
+
+“You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her.
+
+“Oh! yes--I understand you perfectly.”
+
+“I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen
+through I am afraid is pitiful.”
+
+“That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate
+character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”
+
+“Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in
+the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”
+
+“I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately, “that you were a
+studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”
+
+“Yes, but intricate characters are the _most_ amusing. They have at
+least that advantage.”
+
+“The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but a few subjects for
+such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and
+unvarying society.”
+
+“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be
+observed in them for ever.”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning
+a country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of _that_
+going on in the country as in town.”
+
+Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment,
+turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete
+victory over him, continued her triumph.
+
+“I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for
+my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal
+pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?”
+
+“When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it;
+and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their
+advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”
+
+“Aye--that is because you have the right disposition. But that
+gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing
+at all.”
+
+“Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her
+mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not
+such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town,
+which you must acknowledge to be true.”
+
+“Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting
+with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few
+neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”
+
+Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his
+countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards
+Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of
+saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if
+Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since _her_ coming away.
+
+“Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir
+William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So
+genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. _That_
+is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very
+important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.”
+
+“Did Charlotte dine with you?”
+
+“No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For
+my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work;
+_my_ daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to
+judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls,
+I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think
+Charlotte so _very_ plain--but then she is our particular friend.”
+
+“She seems a very pleasant young woman.”
+
+“Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself
+has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast
+of my own child, but to be sure, Jane--one does not often see anybody
+better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own
+partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother
+Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was
+sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he
+did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses
+on her, and very pretty they were.”
+
+“And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has
+been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first
+discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”
+
+“I have been used to consider poetry as the _food_ of love,” said Darcy.
+
+“Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is
+strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I
+am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”
+
+Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth
+tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to
+speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs.
+Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to
+Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was
+unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be
+civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part
+indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and
+soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of
+her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to
+each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the
+youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming
+into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.
+
+Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion
+and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose
+affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high
+animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the
+attention of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good dinners, and her own
+easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very
+equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and
+abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most
+shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this
+sudden attack was delightful to their mother’s ear:
+
+“I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when
+your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of
+the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill.”
+
+Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh! yes--it would be much better to
+wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter
+would be at Meryton again. And when you have given _your_ ball,” she
+added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel
+Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned
+instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the
+remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however,
+could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of _her_, in spite of
+all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on _fine eyes_.
+
+
+
+Chapter 10
+
+
+The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss
+Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who
+continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined
+their party in the drawing-room. The loo-table, however, did not appear.
+Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching
+the progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by
+messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and
+Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.
+
+Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in
+attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual
+commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness
+of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern
+with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was
+exactly in union with her opinion of each.
+
+“How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!”
+
+He made no answer.
+
+“You write uncommonly fast.”
+
+“You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”
+
+“How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a
+year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”
+
+“It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.”
+
+“Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”
+
+“I have already told her so once, by your desire.”
+
+“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend
+pens remarkably well.”
+
+“Thank you--but I always mend my own.”
+
+“How can you contrive to write so even?”
+
+He was silent.
+
+“Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp;
+and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful
+little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss
+Grantley’s.”
+
+“Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At
+present I have not room to do them justice.”
+
+“Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you
+always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”
+
+“They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me
+to determine.”
+
+“It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with
+ease, cannot write ill.”
+
+“That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her
+brother, “because he does _not_ write with ease. He studies too much for
+words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”
+
+“My style of writing is very different from yours.”
+
+“Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way
+imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”
+
+“My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them--by which
+means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.”
+
+“Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.”
+
+“Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of
+humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an
+indirect boast.”
+
+“And which of the two do you call _my_ little recent piece of modesty?”
+
+“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in
+writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of
+thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you
+think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with
+quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any
+attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs.
+Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield
+you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of
+panegyric, of compliment to yourself--and yet what is there so very
+laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business
+undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”
+
+“Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the
+foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour,
+I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this
+moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless
+precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.”
+
+“I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that
+you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as
+dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were
+mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better
+stay till next week,’ you would probably do it, you would probably not
+go--and at another word, might stay a month.”
+
+“You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did
+not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much
+more than he did himself.”
+
+“I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my
+friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am
+afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means
+intend; for he would certainly think better of me, if under such a
+circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I
+could.”
+
+“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intentions
+as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”
+
+“Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for
+himself.”
+
+“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine,
+but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to
+stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet,
+that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and
+the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering
+one argument in favour of its propriety.”
+
+“To yield readily--easily--to the _persuasion_ of a friend is no merit
+with you.”
+
+“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of
+either.”
+
+“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of
+friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make
+one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason
+one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have
+supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the
+circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour
+thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend,
+where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no
+very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying
+with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”
+
+“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to
+arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to
+appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting
+between the parties?”
+
+“By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not
+forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more
+weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure
+you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with
+myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not
+know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in
+particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening,
+when he has nothing to do.”
+
+Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was
+rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly
+resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her
+brother for talking such nonsense.
+
+“I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument,
+and want to silence this.”
+
+“Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss
+Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very
+thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”
+
+“What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr.
+Darcy had much better finish his letter.”
+
+Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.
+
+When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth
+for an indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with some alacrity
+to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead
+the way which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she
+seated herself.
+
+Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed,
+Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books
+that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed
+on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of
+admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her
+because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine,
+however, at last that she drew his notice because there was something
+more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in
+any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked
+him too little to care for his approbation.
+
+After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by
+a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near
+Elizabeth, said to her:
+
+“Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an
+opportunity of dancing a reel?”
+
+She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some
+surprise at her silence.
+
+“Oh!” said she, “I heard you before, but I could not immediately
+determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’
+that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always
+delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of
+their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell
+you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all--and now despise me if
+you dare.”
+
+“Indeed I do not dare.”
+
+Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his
+gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her
+manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy
+had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really
+believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he
+should be in some danger.
+
+Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her great
+anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some
+assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.
+
+She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of
+their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.
+
+“I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery
+the next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this
+desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue;
+and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after
+officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to
+check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence,
+which your lady possesses.”
+
+“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”
+
+“Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed
+in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the
+judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different
+lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not have it taken, for
+what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”
+
+“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their
+colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be
+copied.”
+
+At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and
+Elizabeth herself.
+
+“I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some
+confusion, lest they had been overheard.
+
+“You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without
+telling us that you were coming out.”
+
+Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk
+by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness,
+and immediately said:
+
+“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the
+avenue.”
+
+But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them,
+laughingly answered:
+
+“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear
+to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a
+fourth. Good-bye.”
+
+She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the hope of
+being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered
+as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.
+
+
+
+Chapter 11
+
+
+When the ladies removed after dinner, Elizabeth ran up to her
+sister, and seeing her well guarded from cold, attended her into the
+drawing-room, where she was welcomed by her two friends with many
+professions of pleasure; and Elizabeth had never seen them so agreeable
+as they were during the hour which passed before the gentlemen appeared.
+Their powers of conversation were considerable. They could describe an
+entertainment with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and laugh
+at their acquaintance with spirit.
+
+But when the gentlemen entered, Jane was no longer the first object;
+Miss Bingley’s eyes were instantly turned toward Darcy, and she had
+something to say to him before he had advanced many steps. He addressed
+himself to Miss Bennet, with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also
+made her a slight bow, and said he was “very glad;” but diffuseness
+and warmth remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was full of joy and
+attention. The first half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she
+should suffer from the change of room; and she removed at his desire
+to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be further from
+the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anyone
+else. Elizabeth, at work in the opposite corner, saw it all with great
+delight.
+
+When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the
+card-table--but in vain. She had obtained private intelligence that Mr.
+Darcy did not wish for cards; and Mr. Hurst soon found even his open
+petition rejected. She assured him that no one intended to play, and
+the silence of the whole party on the subject seemed to justify her. Mr.
+Hurst had therefore nothing to do, but to stretch himself on one of the
+sofas and go to sleep. Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley did the same;
+and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in playing with her bracelets
+and rings, joined now and then in her brother’s conversation with Miss
+Bennet.
+
+Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr.
+Darcy’s progress through _his_ book, as in reading her own; and she
+was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She
+could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her
+question, and read on. At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be
+amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the
+second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant
+it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no
+enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a
+book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not
+an excellent library.”
+
+No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and
+cast her eyes round the room in quest for some amusement; when hearing
+her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly
+towards him and said:
+
+“By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at
+Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult
+the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are
+not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a
+pleasure.”
+
+“If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he
+chooses, before it begins--but as for the ball, it is quite a settled
+thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send
+round my cards.”
+
+“I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were
+carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably
+tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much
+more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of
+the day.”
+
+“Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be
+near so much like a ball.”
+
+Miss Bingley made no answer, and soon afterwards she got up and walked
+about the room. Her figure was elegant, and she walked well; but
+Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was still inflexibly studious. In
+the desperation of her feelings, she resolved on one effort more, and,
+turning to Elizabeth, said:
+
+“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a
+turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so
+long in one attitude.”
+
+Elizabeth was surprised, but agreed to it immediately. Miss Bingley
+succeeded no less in the real object of her civility; Mr. Darcy looked
+up. He was as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as
+Elizabeth herself could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was
+directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing that
+he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down
+the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would
+interfere. “What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his
+meaning?”--and asked Elizabeth whether she could at all understand him?
+
+“Not at all,” was her answer; “but depend upon it, he means to be severe
+on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing
+about it.”
+
+Miss Bingley, however, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in
+anything, and persevered therefore in requiring an explanation of his
+two motives.
+
+“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” said he, as soon
+as she allowed him to speak. “You either choose this method of passing
+the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret
+affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures
+appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be
+completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better
+as I sit by the fire.”
+
+“Oh! shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so
+abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”
+
+“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” said Elizabeth. “We
+can all plague and punish one another. Tease him--laugh at him. Intimate
+as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
+
+“But upon my honour, I do _not_. I do assure you that my intimacy has
+not yet taught me _that_. Tease calmness of manner and presence of
+mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will
+not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a
+subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself.”
+
+“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an
+uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would
+be a great loss to _me_ to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a
+laugh.”
+
+“Miss Bingley,” said he, “has given me more credit than can be.
+The wisest and the best of men--nay, the wisest and best of their
+actions--may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in
+life is a joke.”
+
+“Certainly,” replied Elizabeth--“there are such people, but I hope I
+am not one of _them_. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good.
+Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, _do_ divert me, I own,
+and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely
+what you are without.”
+
+“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study
+of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong
+understanding to ridicule.”
+
+“Such as vanity and pride.”
+
+“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride--where there is a real
+superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”
+
+Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile.
+
+“Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” said Miss Bingley;
+“and pray what is the result?”
+
+“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it
+himself without disguise.”
+
+“No,” said Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough,
+but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch
+for. It is, I believe, too little yielding--certainly too little for the
+convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others
+so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings
+are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper
+would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost
+forever.”
+
+“_That_ is a failing indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment
+_is_ a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I
+really cannot _laugh_ at it. You are safe from me.”
+
+“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular
+evil--a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
+
+“And _your_ defect is to hate everybody.”
+
+“And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand
+them.”
+
+“Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, tired of a
+conversation in which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my
+waking Mr. Hurst?”
+
+Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was
+opened; and Darcy, after a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for
+it. He began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.
+
+
+
+Chapter 12
+
+
+In consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the
+next morning to their mother, to beg that the carriage might be sent for
+them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on
+her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which
+would exactly finish Jane’s week, could not bring herself to receive
+them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at
+least not to Elizabeth’s wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs.
+Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage
+before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley
+and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them
+very well. Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively
+resolved--nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the
+contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long,
+she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage immediately, and at
+length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield
+that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.
+
+The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was
+said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work
+on Jane; and till the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was
+then sorry that she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike
+of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.
+
+The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so
+soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be
+safe for her--that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where
+she felt herself to be right.
+
+To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence--Elizabeth had been at
+Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked--and Miss
+Bingley was uncivil to _her_, and more teasing than usual to himself.
+He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration
+should _now_ escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope
+of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been
+suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight
+in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke
+ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though they were
+at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most
+conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.
+
+On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to almost
+all, took place. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth increased at last
+very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted,
+after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her
+to see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most
+tenderly, she even shook hands with the former. Elizabeth took leave of
+the whole party in the liveliest of spirits.
+
+They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet
+wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much
+trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. But their
+father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really
+glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The
+evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of
+its animation, and almost all its sense by the absence of Jane and
+Elizabeth.
+
+They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough-bass and human
+nature; and had some extracts to admire, and some new observations of
+threadbare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information
+for them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said
+in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers
+had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it
+had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.
+
+
+
+Chapter 13
+
+
+“I hope, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at
+breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day,
+because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
+
+“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure,
+unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in--and I hope _my_ dinners
+are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
+
+“The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr.
+Bingley, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr.
+Bingley. But--good Lord! how unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be
+got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell--I must speak to Hill this
+moment.”
+
+“It is _not_ Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I
+never saw in the whole course of my life.”
+
+This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being
+eagerly questioned by his wife and his five daughters at once.
+
+After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained:
+
+“About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago
+I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring
+early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead,
+may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”
+
+“Oh! my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned.
+Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing
+in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own
+children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago
+to do something or other about it.”
+
+Jane and Elizabeth tried to explain to her the nature of an entail. They
+had often attempted to do it before, but it was a subject on which
+Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason, and she continued to rail
+bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of
+five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.
+
+“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” said Mr. Bennet, “and
+nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn.
+But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little
+softened by his manner of expressing himself.”
+
+“No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent of
+him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false
+friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as his father did
+before him?”
+
+“Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that
+head, as you will hear.”
+
+“Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent, 15th October.
+
+“Dear Sir,--
+
+“The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured
+father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the
+misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but
+for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might
+seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone
+with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.--‘There, Mrs.
+Bennet.’--My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having
+received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be
+distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de
+Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has
+preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be
+my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her
+ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which
+are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I
+feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in
+all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I
+flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable, and
+that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate
+will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the
+offered olive-branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the
+means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for
+it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible
+amends--but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to
+receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting
+on you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o’clock, and
+shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se’ennight
+following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine
+is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided
+that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.--I
+remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and
+daughters, your well-wisher and friend,
+
+“WILLIAM COLLINS”
+
+“At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,”
+ said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most
+conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will
+prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so
+indulgent as to let him come to us again.”
+
+“There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if
+he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to
+discourage him.”
+
+“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean
+to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his
+credit.”
+
+Elizabeth was chiefly struck by his extraordinary deference for Lady
+Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying
+his parishioners whenever it were required.
+
+“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him
+out.--There is something very pompous in his style.--And what can he
+mean by apologising for being next in the entail?--We cannot suppose he
+would help it if he could.--Could he be a sensible man, sir?”
+
+“No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the
+reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his
+letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”
+
+“In point of composition,” said Mary, “the letter does not seem
+defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I
+think it is well expressed.”
+
+To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were in any
+degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should
+come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had
+received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for
+their mother, Mr. Collins’s letter had done away much of her ill-will,
+and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure which
+astonished her husband and daughters.
+
+Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great
+politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the
+ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in
+need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a
+tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and
+stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated
+before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of
+daughters; said he had heard much of their beauty, but that in this
+instance fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did
+not doubt her seeing them all in due time disposed of in marriage. This
+gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers; but Mrs.
+Bennet, who quarreled with no compliments, answered most readily.
+
+“You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may
+prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so
+oddly.”
+
+“You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”
+
+“Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you
+must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with _you_, for such things
+I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates
+will go when once they come to be entailed.”
+
+“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and
+could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing
+forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come
+prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps,
+when we are better acquainted--”
+
+He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the girls smiled on each
+other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The
+hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised;
+and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s
+heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his
+own future property. The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and
+he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellency of its
+cooking was owing. But he was set right there by Mrs. Bennet, who
+assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to keep a
+good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen. He
+begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared
+herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologise for about a
+quarter of an hour.
+
+
+
+Chapter 14
+
+
+During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke at all; but when the servants
+were withdrawn, he thought it time to have some conversation with his
+guest, and therefore started a subject in which he expected him to
+shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Lady
+Catherine de Bourgh’s attention to his wishes, and consideration for
+his comfort, appeared very remarkable. Mr. Bennet could not have chosen
+better. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her praise. The subject elevated him
+to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect
+he protested that “he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in
+a person of rank--such affability and condescension, as he had himself
+experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to
+approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honour of
+preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings,
+and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of
+quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many
+people he knew, but _he_ had never seen anything but affability in her.
+She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she
+made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the
+neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or
+two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to
+marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had
+once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly
+approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed
+to suggest some herself--some shelves in the closet up stairs.”
+
+“That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” said Mrs. Bennet, “and
+I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies
+in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”
+
+“The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane
+from Rosings Park, her ladyship’s residence.”
+
+“I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?”
+
+“She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very
+extensive property.”
+
+“Ah!” said Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than
+many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”
+
+“She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says
+that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the
+handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks
+the young lady of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly
+constitution, which has prevented her from making that progress in many
+accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am
+informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still
+resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends
+to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.”
+
+“Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at
+court.”
+
+“Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town;
+and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the
+British court of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship seemed pleased
+with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to
+offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable
+to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that
+her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most
+elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by
+her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and
+it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to
+pay.”
+
+“You judge very properly,” said Mr. Bennet, “and it is happy for you
+that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask
+whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the
+moment, or are the result of previous study?”
+
+“They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I
+sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant
+compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to
+give them as unstudied an air as possible.”
+
+Mr. Bennet’s expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd
+as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment,
+maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance,
+and, except in an occasional glance at Elizabeth, requiring no partner
+in his pleasure.
+
+By tea-time, however, the dose had been enough, and Mr. Bennet was glad
+to take his guest into the drawing-room again, and, when tea was over,
+glad to invite him to read aloud to the ladies. Mr. Collins readily
+assented, and a book was produced; but, on beholding it (for everything
+announced it to be from a circulating library), he started back, and
+begging pardon, protested that he never read novels. Kitty stared at
+him, and Lydia exclaimed. Other books were produced, and after some
+deliberation he chose Fordyce’s Sermons. Lydia gaped as he opened the
+volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three
+pages, she interrupted him with:
+
+“Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away
+Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me
+so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more
+about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”
+
+Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to hold her tongue; but Mr.
+Collins, much offended, laid aside his book, and said:
+
+“I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books
+of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes
+me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to
+them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”
+
+Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he offered himself as his antagonist at
+backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the challenge, observing that he acted
+very wisely in leaving the girls to their own trifling amusements.
+Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most civilly for Lydia’s
+interruption, and promised that it should not occur again, if he would
+resume his book; but Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his
+young cousin no ill-will, and should never resent her behaviour as any
+affront, seated himself at another table with Mr. Bennet, and prepared
+for backgammon.
+
+
+
+Chapter 15
+
+
+Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had
+been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part
+of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and
+miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he
+had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful
+acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had
+given him originally great humility of manner; but it was now a
+good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in
+retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected
+prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de
+Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which
+he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness,
+mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a
+clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of
+pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.
+
+Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to
+marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had
+a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found
+them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report.
+This was his plan of amends--of atonement--for inheriting their father’s
+estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and
+suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own
+part.
+
+His plan did not vary on seeing them. Miss Bennet’s lovely face
+confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what
+was due to seniority; and for the first evening _she_ was his settled
+choice. The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a
+quarter of an hour’s tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a
+conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally
+to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress might be found for it at
+Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general
+encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on. “As to
+her _younger_ daughters, she could not take upon her to say--she could
+not positively answer--but she did not _know_ of any prepossession; her
+_eldest_ daughter, she must just mention--she felt it incumbent on her
+to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.”
+
+Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth--and it was soon
+done--done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. Elizabeth, equally
+next to Jane in birth and beauty, succeeded her of course.
+
+Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have
+two daughters married; and the man whom she could not bear to speak of
+the day before was now high in her good graces.
+
+Lydia’s intention of walking to Meryton was not forgotten; every sister
+except Mary agreed to go with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them,
+at the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to get rid of him,
+and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had followed
+him after breakfast; and there he would continue, nominally engaged with
+one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr.
+Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such
+doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been
+always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told
+Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room of the
+house, he was used to be free from them there; his civility, therefore,
+was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their
+walk; and Mr. Collins, being in fact much better fitted for a walker
+than a reader, was extremely pleased to close his large book, and go.
+
+In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his
+cousins, their time passed till they entered Meryton. The attention of
+the younger ones was then no longer to be gained by him. Their eyes were
+immediately wandering up in the street in quest of the officers, and
+nothing less than a very smart bonnet indeed, or a really new muslin in
+a shop window, could recall them.
+
+But the attention of every lady was soon caught by a young man, whom
+they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance, walking
+with another officer on the other side of the way. The officer was
+the very Mr. Denny concerning whose return from London Lydia came
+to inquire, and he bowed as they passed. All were struck with the
+stranger’s air, all wondered who he could be; and Kitty and Lydia,
+determined if possible to find out, led the way across the street, under
+pretense of wanting something in an opposite shop, and fortunately
+had just gained the pavement when the two gentlemen, turning back, had
+reached the same spot. Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated
+permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with
+him the day before from town, and he was happy to say had accepted a
+commission in their corps. This was exactly as it should be; for the
+young man wanted only regimentals to make him completely charming.
+His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of
+beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.
+The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness
+of conversation--a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and
+unassuming; and the whole party were still standing and talking together
+very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their notice, and Darcy
+and Bingley were seen riding down the street. On distinguishing the
+ladies of the group, the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and
+began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and
+Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, he said, on his way to
+Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated
+it with a bow, and was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes
+on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the
+stranger, and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they
+looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting.
+Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham,
+after a few moments, touched his hat--a salutation which Mr. Darcy just
+deigned to return. What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to
+imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.
+
+In another minute, Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what
+passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.
+
+Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the young ladies to the door of
+Mr. Phillip’s house, and then made their bows, in spite of Miss Lydia’s
+pressing entreaties that they should come in, and even in spite of
+Mrs. Phillips’s throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the
+invitation.
+
+Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces; and the two eldest,
+from their recent absence, were particularly welcome, and she was
+eagerly expressing her surprise at their sudden return home, which, as
+their own carriage had not fetched them, she should have known nothing
+about, if she had not happened to see Mr. Jones’s shop-boy in the
+street, who had told her that they were not to send any more draughts to
+Netherfield because the Miss Bennets were come away, when her civility
+was claimed towards Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She
+received him with her very best politeness, which he returned with
+as much more, apologising for his intrusion, without any previous
+acquaintance with her, which he could not help flattering himself,
+however, might be justified by his relationship to the young ladies who
+introduced him to her notice. Mrs. Phillips was quite awed by such an
+excess of good breeding; but her contemplation of one stranger was soon
+put to an end by exclamations and inquiries about the other; of whom,
+however, she could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that
+Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a
+lieutenant’s commission in the ----shire. She had been watching him the
+last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street, and had Mr.
+Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would certainly have continued the
+occupation, but unluckily no one passed windows now except a few of the
+officers, who, in comparison with the stranger, were become “stupid,
+disagreeable fellows.” Some of them were to dine with the Phillipses
+the next day, and their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr.
+Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn
+would come in the evening. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips
+protested that they would have a nice comfortable noisy game of lottery
+tickets, and a little bit of hot supper afterwards. The prospect of such
+delights was very cheering, and they parted in mutual good spirits. Mr.
+Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured
+with unwearying civility that they were perfectly needless.
+
+As they walked home, Elizabeth related to Jane what she had seen pass
+between the two gentlemen; but though Jane would have defended either
+or both, had they appeared to be in the wrong, she could no more explain
+such behaviour than her sister.
+
+Mr. Collins on his return highly gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring
+Mrs. Phillips’s manners and politeness. He protested that, except Lady
+Catherine and her daughter, he had never seen a more elegant woman;
+for she had not only received him with the utmost civility, but even
+pointedly included him in her invitation for the next evening, although
+utterly unknown to her before. Something, he supposed, might be
+attributed to his connection with them, but yet he had never met with so
+much attention in the whole course of his life.
+
+
+
+Chapter 16
+
+
+As no objection was made to the young people’s engagement with their
+aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for
+a single evening during his visit were most steadily resisted, the coach
+conveyed him and his five cousins at a suitable hour to Meryton; and
+the girls had the pleasure of hearing, as they entered the drawing-room,
+that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in
+the house.
+
+When this information was given, and they had all taken their seats, Mr.
+Collins was at leisure to look around him and admire, and he was so much
+struck with the size and furniture of the apartment, that he declared he
+might almost have supposed himself in the small summer breakfast
+parlour at Rosings; a comparison that did not at first convey much
+gratification; but when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what
+Rosings was, and who was its proprietor--when she had listened to the
+description of only one of Lady Catherine’s drawing-rooms, and found
+that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, she felt all
+the force of the compliment, and would hardly have resented a comparison
+with the housekeeper’s room.
+
+In describing to her all the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion,
+with occasional digressions in praise of his own humble abode, and
+the improvements it was receiving, he was happily employed until the
+gentlemen joined them; and he found in Mrs. Phillips a very attentive
+listener, whose opinion of his consequence increased with what she
+heard, and who was resolving to retail it all among her neighbours as
+soon as she could. To the girls, who could not listen to their cousin,
+and who had nothing to do but to wish for an instrument, and examine
+their own indifferent imitations of china on the mantelpiece, the
+interval of waiting appeared very long. It was over at last, however.
+The gentlemen did approach, and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room,
+Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking
+of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration.
+The officers of the ----shire were in general a very creditable,
+gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party; but
+Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and
+walk, as _they_ were superior to the broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips,
+breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.
+
+Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was
+turned, and Elizabeth was the happy woman by whom he finally seated
+himself; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into
+conversation, though it was only on its being a wet night, made her feel
+that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered
+interesting by the skill of the speaker.
+
+With such rivals for the notice of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the
+officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink into insignificance; to the young
+ladies he certainly was nothing; but he had still at intervals a kind
+listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her watchfulness, most abundantly
+supplied with coffee and muffin. When the card-tables were placed, he
+had the opportunity of obliging her in turn, by sitting down to whist.
+
+“I know little of the game at present,” said he, “but I shall be glad
+to improve myself, for in my situation in life--” Mrs. Phillips was very
+glad for his compliance, but could not wait for his reason.
+
+Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he
+received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there
+seemed danger of Lydia’s engrossing him entirely, for she was a most
+determined talker; but being likewise extremely fond of lottery tickets,
+she soon grew too much interested in the game, too eager in making bets
+and exclaiming after prizes to have attention for anyone in particular.
+Allowing for the common demands of the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore
+at leisure to talk to Elizabeth, and she was very willing to hear
+him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be
+told--the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not
+even mention that gentleman. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly
+relieved. Mr. Wickham began the subject himself. He inquired how far
+Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in
+a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.
+
+“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then, unwilling to let the subject
+drop, added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I
+understand.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear
+ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more
+capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for
+I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my
+infancy.”
+
+Elizabeth could not but look surprised.
+
+“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after
+seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting
+yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”
+
+“As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth very warmly. “I have
+spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very
+disagreeable.”
+
+“I have no right to give _my_ opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being
+agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him
+too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for _me_
+to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general
+astonish--and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly
+anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”
+
+“Upon my word, I say no more _here_ than I might say in any house in
+the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in
+Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find
+him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”
+
+“I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short
+interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond
+their deserts; but with _him_ I believe it does not often happen. The
+world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his
+high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”
+
+“I should take him, even on _my_ slight acquaintance, to be an
+ill-tempered man.” Wickham only shook his head.
+
+“I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is
+likely to be in this country much longer.”
+
+“I do not at all know; but I _heard_ nothing of his going away when I
+was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ----shire will
+not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”
+
+“Oh! no--it is not for _me_ to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If _he_
+wishes to avoid seeing _me_, he must go. We are not on friendly terms,
+and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for
+avoiding _him_ but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense
+of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he
+is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men
+that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never
+be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by
+a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been
+scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and
+everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the
+memory of his father.”
+
+Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with
+all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.
+
+Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics, Meryton, the
+neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that
+he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gentle but very
+intelligible gallantry.
+
+“It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added,
+“which was my chief inducement to enter the ----shire. I knew it to be
+a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me
+further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great
+attentions and excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them.
+Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and
+my spirits will not bear solitude. I _must_ have employment and society.
+A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have
+now made it eligible. The church _ought_ to have been my profession--I
+was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in
+possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we
+were speaking of just now.”
+
+“Indeed!”
+
+“Yes--the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best
+living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me.
+I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply,
+and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given
+elsewhere.”
+
+“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could _that_ be? How could his
+will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”
+
+“There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to
+give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the
+intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it--or to treat it as a merely
+conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim
+to it by extravagance, imprudence--in short anything or nothing. Certain
+it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was
+of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no
+less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done
+anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and
+I may have spoken my opinion _of_ him, and _to_ him, too freely. I can
+recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort
+of men, and that he hates me.”
+
+“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”
+
+“Some time or other he _will_ be--but it shall not be by _me_. Till I
+can forget his father, I can never defy or expose _him_.”
+
+Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than
+ever as he expressed them.
+
+“But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? What can
+have induced him to behave so cruelly?”
+
+“A thorough, determined dislike of me--a dislike which I cannot but
+attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me
+less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father’s uncommon
+attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had
+not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood--the sort
+of preference which was often given me.”
+
+“I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this--though I have never liked
+him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be
+despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of
+descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as
+this.”
+
+After a few minutes’ reflection, however, she continued, “I _do_
+remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of
+his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition
+must be dreadful.”
+
+“I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “I can hardly
+be just to him.”
+
+Elizabeth was again deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To
+treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his
+father!” She could have added, “A young man, too, like _you_, whose very
+countenance may vouch for your being amiable”--but she contented herself
+with, “and one, too, who had probably been his companion from childhood,
+connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!”
+
+“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest
+part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house,
+sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. _My_
+father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips,
+appears to do so much credit to--but he gave up everything to be of
+use to the late Mr. Darcy and devoted all his time to the care of the
+Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most
+intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to
+be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active superintendence,
+and when, immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a
+voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to
+be as much a debt of gratitude to _him_, as of his affection to myself.”
+
+“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very
+pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better
+motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest--for
+dishonesty I must call it.”
+
+“It _is_ wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may
+be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has
+connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are
+none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger
+impulses even than pride.”
+
+“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”
+
+“Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money
+freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the
+poor. Family pride, and _filial_ pride--for he is very proud of what
+his father was--have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family,
+to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the
+Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also _brotherly_ pride,
+which, with _some_ brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and
+careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up
+as the most attentive and best of brothers.”
+
+“What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”
+
+He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to
+speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother--very, very
+proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond
+of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is
+nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen,
+and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death, her
+home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her
+education.”
+
+After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth could not
+help reverting once more to the first, and saying:
+
+“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley,
+who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable,
+be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you
+know Mr. Bingley?”
+
+“Not at all.”
+
+“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr.
+Darcy is.”
+
+“Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not
+want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth
+his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is
+a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His
+pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just,
+sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable--allowing something
+for fortune and figure.”
+
+The whist party soon afterwards breaking up, the players gathered round
+the other table and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin
+Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The usual inquiries as to his success were
+made by the latter. It had not been very great; he had lost every
+point; but when Mrs. Phillips began to express her concern thereupon,
+he assured her with much earnest gravity that it was not of the least
+importance, that he considered the money as a mere trifle, and begged
+that she would not make herself uneasy.
+
+“I know very well, madam,” said he, “that when persons sit down to a
+card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and happily I
+am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There
+are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady
+Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding
+little matters.”
+
+Mr. Wickham’s attention was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for
+a few moments, he asked Elizabeth in a low voice whether her relation
+was very intimately acquainted with the family of de Bourgh.
+
+“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him
+a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her
+notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”
+
+“You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy
+were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”
+
+“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s
+connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before
+yesterday.”
+
+“Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is
+believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”
+
+This information made Elizabeth smile, as she thought of poor Miss
+Bingley. Vain indeed must be all her attentions, vain and useless her
+affection for his sister and her praise of himself, if he were already
+self-destined for another.
+
+“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her
+daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship,
+I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his
+patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”
+
+“I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have
+not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked
+her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the
+reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe
+she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from
+her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride for her
+nephew, who chooses that everyone connected with him should have an
+understanding of the first class.”
+
+Elizabeth allowed that he had given a very rational account of it, and
+they continued talking together, with mutual satisfaction till supper
+put an end to cards, and gave the rest of the ladies their share of Mr.
+Wickham’s attentions. There could be no conversation in the noise
+of Mrs. Phillips’s supper party, but his manners recommended him to
+everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done
+gracefully. Elizabeth went away with her head full of him. She could
+think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all
+the way home; but there was not time for her even to mention his name
+as they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia
+talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had lost and the
+fish she had won; and Mr. Collins in describing the civility of Mr. and
+Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did not in the least regard his losses
+at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing
+that he crowded his cousins, had more to say than he could well manage
+before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.
+
+
+
+Chapter 17
+
+
+Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr.
+Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she
+knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr.
+Bingley’s regard; and yet, it was not in her nature to question the
+veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The
+possibility of his having endured such unkindness, was enough to
+interest all her tender feelings; and nothing remained therefore to be
+done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each,
+and throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be
+otherwise explained.
+
+“They have both,” said she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way
+or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps
+misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to
+conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them,
+without actual blame on either side.”
+
+“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on
+behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the
+business? Do clear _them_ too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of
+somebody.”
+
+“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my
+opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light
+it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such
+a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is
+impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his
+character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so
+excessively deceived in him? Oh! no.”
+
+“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on, than
+that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me
+last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it
+be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his
+looks.”
+
+“It is difficult indeed--it is distressing. One does not know what to
+think.”
+
+“I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.”
+
+But Jane could think with certainty on only one point--that Mr. Bingley,
+if he _had_ been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair
+became public.
+
+The two young ladies were summoned from the shrubbery, where this
+conversation passed, by the arrival of the very persons of whom they had
+been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came to give their personal
+invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was fixed
+for the following Tuesday. The two ladies were delighted to see their
+dear friend again, called it an age since they had met, and repeatedly
+asked what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To
+the rest of the family they paid little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet
+as much as possible, saying not much to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to
+the others. They were soon gone again, rising from their seats with an
+activity which took their brother by surprise, and hurrying off as if
+eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.
+
+The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every
+female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider it as given in
+compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly flattered
+by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead of a
+ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the
+society of her two friends, and the attentions of their brother; and
+Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr.
+Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy’s look
+and behaviour. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended
+less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they
+each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham,
+he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball
+was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she
+had no disinclination for it.
+
+“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough--I
+think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements.
+Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those
+who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for
+everybody.”
+
+Elizabeth’s spirits were so high on this occasion, that though she did
+not often speak unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking
+him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if
+he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening’s
+amusement; and she was rather surprised to find that he entertained no
+scruple whatever on that head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke
+either from the Archbishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to
+dance.
+
+“I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you,” said he, “that a ball
+of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people,
+can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing
+myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair
+cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of
+soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially,
+a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right
+cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”
+
+Elizabeth felt herself completely taken in. She had fully proposed being
+engaged by Mr. Wickham for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins
+instead! her liveliness had never been worse timed. There was no help
+for it, however. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her own were perforce
+delayed a little longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with as
+good a grace as she could. She was not the better pleased with his
+gallantry from the idea it suggested of something more. It now first
+struck her, that _she_ was selected from among her sisters as worthy
+of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a
+quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors.
+The idea soon reached to conviction, as she observed his increasing
+civilities toward herself, and heard his frequent attempt at a
+compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though more astonished than
+gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it was not long before
+her mother gave her to understand that the probability of their marriage
+was extremely agreeable to _her_. Elizabeth, however, did not choose
+to take the hint, being well aware that a serious dispute must be the
+consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and
+till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.
+
+If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for and talk of, the
+younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very pitiable state at this
+time, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there
+was such a succession of rain as prevented their walking to Meryton
+once. No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought after--the very
+shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have
+found some trial of her patience in weather which totally suspended the
+improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than
+a dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and
+Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia.
+
+
+
+Chapter 18
+
+
+Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in
+vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a
+doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty
+of meeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections that
+might not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more than
+usual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of all
+that remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more than
+might be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose
+the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy’s
+pleasure in the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and though
+this was not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence was
+pronounced by his friend Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, and who
+told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business the
+day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significant smile,
+“I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if
+he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”
+
+This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by
+Elizabeth, and, as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for
+Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been just, every
+feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate
+disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to
+the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make.
+Attendance, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She
+was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, and turned away
+with a degree of ill-humour which she could not wholly surmount even in
+speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.
+
+But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospect
+of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her
+spirits; and having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she had
+not seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary transition
+to the oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her particular
+notice. The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress;
+they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn,
+apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being
+aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable
+partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release from
+him was ecstasy.
+
+She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking of
+Wickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those dances
+were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation with
+her, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy who took
+her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that,
+without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again
+immediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of
+mind; Charlotte tried to console her:
+
+“I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”
+
+“Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find
+a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an
+evil.”
+
+When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim her
+hand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her in a whisper, not to be a
+simpleton, and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasant
+in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence. Elizabeth made no
+answer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to which
+she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and
+reading in her neighbours’ looks, their equal amazement in beholding
+it. They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to
+imagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and at
+first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would
+be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, she made
+some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again
+silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time
+with:--“It is _your_ turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked
+about the dance, and _you_ ought to make some sort of remark on the size
+of the room, or the number of couples.”
+
+He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be
+said.
+
+“Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may
+observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But
+_now_ we may be silent.”
+
+“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”
+
+“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be
+entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of
+_some_, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the
+trouble of saying as little as possible.”
+
+“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you
+imagine that you are gratifying mine?”
+
+“Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great
+similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial,
+taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say
+something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to
+posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
+
+“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,”
+ said he. “How near it may be to _mine_, I cannot pretend to say. _You_
+think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”
+
+“I must not decide on my own performance.”
+
+He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down
+the dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very often
+walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist
+the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just
+been forming a new acquaintance.”
+
+The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of _hauteur_ overspread his
+features, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though blaming herself
+for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in a
+constrained manner said, “Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners
+as may ensure his _making_ friends--whether he may be equally capable of
+_retaining_ them, is less certain.”
+
+“He has been so unlucky as to lose _your_ friendship,” replied Elizabeth
+with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all
+his life.”
+
+Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. At
+that moment, Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass
+through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr.
+Darcy, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on
+his dancing and his partner.
+
+“I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very
+superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the
+first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not
+disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated,
+especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza (glancing at
+her sister and Bingley) shall take place. What congratulations will then
+flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy:--but let me not interrupt you, sir. You
+will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that
+young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”
+
+The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir
+William’s allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his
+eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and
+Jane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly,
+he turned to his partner, and said, “Sir William’s interruption has made
+me forget what we were talking of.”
+
+“I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have
+interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves.
+We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we
+are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
+
+“What think you of books?” said he, smiling.
+
+“Books--oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same
+feelings.”
+
+“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be
+no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”
+
+“No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of
+something else.”
+
+“The _present_ always occupies you in such scenes--does it?” said he,
+with a look of doubt.
+
+“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said, for her
+thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared
+by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy,
+that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was
+unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _being
+created_.”
+
+“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.
+
+“And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
+
+“I hope not.”
+
+“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion,
+to be secure of judging properly at first.”
+
+“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
+
+“Merely to the illustration of _your_ character,” said she, endeavouring
+to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”
+
+“And what is your success?”
+
+She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different
+accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
+
+“I can readily believe,” answered he gravely, “that reports may vary
+greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were
+not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to
+fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
+
+“But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another
+opportunity.”
+
+“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.
+She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in
+silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree,
+for in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerably powerful feeling towards
+her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against
+another.
+
+They had not long separated, when Miss Bingley came towards her, and
+with an expression of civil disdain accosted her:
+
+“So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham!
+Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand
+questions; and I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you, among
+his other communication, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late
+Mr. Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to
+give implicit confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy’s
+using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has
+always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated
+Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but
+I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame, that he
+cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned, and that though my brother
+thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to
+the officers, he was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself
+out of the way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent
+thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you,
+Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really,
+considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”
+
+“His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” said
+Elizabeth angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse
+than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of _that_, I can
+assure you, he informed me himself.”
+
+“I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer.
+“Excuse my interference--it was kindly meant.”
+
+“Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken
+if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see
+nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr.
+Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make
+inquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of
+such sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficiently
+marked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of the evening.
+Elizabeth instantly read her feelings, and at that moment solicitude for
+Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and everything else, gave way
+before the hope of Jane’s being in the fairest way for happiness.
+
+“I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than her
+sister’s, “what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have
+been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person; in which case
+you may be sure of my pardon.”
+
+“No,” replied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing
+satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of
+his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have
+principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct,
+the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that
+Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has
+received; and I am sorry to say by his account as well as his sister’s,
+Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has
+been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s regard.”
+
+“Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?”
+
+“No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”
+
+“This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am
+satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”
+
+“He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard
+them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to
+him _conditionally_ only.”
+
+“I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly;
+“but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr.
+Bingley’s defense of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but
+since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt
+the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture to still think of
+both gentlemen as I did before.”
+
+She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and on
+which there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with
+delight to the happy, though modest hopes which Jane entertained of Mr.
+Bingley’s regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidence
+in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew
+to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her last
+partner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them,
+and told her with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate as
+to make a most important discovery.
+
+“I have found out,” said he, “by a singular accident, that there is now
+in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear the
+gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of
+the house the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady
+Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have
+thought of my meeting with, perhaps, a nephew of Lady Catherine de
+Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made
+in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to
+do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total
+ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”
+
+“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy!”
+
+“Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier.
+I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s _nephew_. It will be in my power to
+assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.”
+
+Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him
+that Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction
+as an impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that
+it was not in the least necessary there should be any notice on either
+side; and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in
+consequence, to begin the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her
+with the determined air of following his own inclination, and, when she
+ceased speaking, replied thus:
+
+“My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world in
+your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your
+understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a wide
+difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity,
+and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that
+I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with
+the highest rank in the kingdom--provided that a proper humility of
+behaviour is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to
+follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to
+perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to
+profit by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant
+guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by
+education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young
+lady like yourself.” And with a low bow he left her to attack Mr.
+Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose
+astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced
+his speech with a solemn bow and though she could not hear a word of
+it, she felt as if hearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the
+words “apology,” “Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed
+her to see him expose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him
+with unrestrained wonder, and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him time
+to speak, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however,
+was not discouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt seemed
+abundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at the
+end of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way. Mr.
+Collins then returned to Elizabeth.
+
+“I have no reason, I assure you,” said he, “to be dissatisfied with my
+reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered
+me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying
+that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be
+certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very
+handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”
+
+As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turned
+her attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the
+train of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to,
+made her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled in
+that very house, in all the felicity which a marriage of true affection
+could bestow; and she felt capable, under such circumstances, of
+endeavouring even to like Bingley’s two sisters. Her mother’s thoughts
+she plainly saw were bent the same way, and she determined not to
+venture near her, lest she might hear too much. When they sat down to
+supper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness which
+placed them within one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to find
+that her mother was talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely,
+openly, and of nothing else but her expectation that Jane would soon
+be married to Mr. Bingley. It was an animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet
+seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages of the
+match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and living but
+three miles from them, were the first points of self-gratulation; and
+then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were of
+Jane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much as
+she could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her younger
+daughters, as Jane’s marrying so greatly must throw them in the way of
+other rich men; and lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to be
+able to consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that
+she might not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It was
+necessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because on
+such occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs.
+Bennet to find comfort in staying home at any period of her life. She
+concluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equally
+fortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was no
+chance of it.
+
+In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother’s
+words, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audible
+whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that the
+chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her
+mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
+
+“What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am
+sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say
+nothing _he_ may not like to hear.”
+
+“For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be for you
+to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by
+so doing!”
+
+Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her mother would
+talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and
+blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequently
+glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of what
+she dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she was
+convinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expression
+of his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed and
+steady gravity.
+
+At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who
+had been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw no
+likelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and
+chicken. Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval of
+tranquillity; for, when supper was over, singing was talked of, and
+she had the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty,
+preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silent
+entreaties, did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance,
+but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an opportunity of
+exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song. Elizabeth’s
+eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations, and she watched her
+progress through the several stanzas with an impatience which was very
+ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receiving, amongst the thanks
+of the table, the hint of a hope that she might be prevailed on to
+favour them again, after the pause of half a minute began another.
+Mary’s powers were by no means fitted for such a display; her voice was
+weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. She looked at
+Jane, to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedly talking to
+Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them making signs
+of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued, however,
+imperturbably grave. She looked at her father to entreat his
+interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint,
+and when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud, “That will do
+extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other
+young ladies have time to exhibit.”
+
+Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and
+Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid
+her anxiety had done no good. Others of the party were now applied to.
+
+“If I,” said Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I
+should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an
+air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly
+compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however,
+to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time
+to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The
+rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make
+such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not
+offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time
+that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care
+and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making
+as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance
+that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody,
+especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit
+him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an
+occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the
+family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had
+been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room. Many stared--many
+smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr. Bennet himself, while his
+wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for having spoken so sensibly,
+and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas, that he was a remarkably
+clever, good kind of young man.
+
+To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement to
+expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would
+have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or
+finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister
+that some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that his
+feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he
+must have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should
+have such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations, was bad enough,
+and she could not determine whether the silent contempt of the
+gentleman, or the insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.
+
+The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by
+Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side, and though
+he could not prevail on her to dance with him again, put it out of her
+power to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up with
+somebody else, and offer to introduce him to any young lady in the room.
+He assured her, that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it;
+that his chief object was by delicate attentions to recommend himself to
+her and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close to her
+the whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a project. She owed
+her greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who often joined them, and
+good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s conversation to herself.
+
+She was at least free from the offense of Mr. Darcy’s further notice;
+though often standing within a very short distance of her, quite
+disengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be the
+probable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in
+it.
+
+The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart, and, by
+a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, had to wait for their carriage a quarter of
+an hour after everybody else was gone, which gave them time to see how
+heartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her
+sister scarcely opened their mouths, except to complain of fatigue, and
+were evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsed
+every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and by so doing threw a
+languor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by the
+long speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his
+sisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality and
+politeness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy said
+nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene.
+Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together, a little detached from the
+rest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady a
+silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too
+much fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of “Lord,
+how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn.
+
+When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly
+civil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn, and
+addressed herself especially to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happy he
+would make them by eating a family dinner with them at any time, without
+the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure,
+and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on
+her, after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the next
+day for a short time.
+
+Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under the
+delightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations of
+settlements, new carriages, and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly
+see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the course of three or four
+months. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins, she thought
+with equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure.
+Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though the
+man and the match were quite good enough for _her_, the worth of each
+was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.
+
+
+
+Chapter 19
+
+
+The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his
+declaration in form. Having resolved to do it without loss of time, as
+his leave of absence extended only to the following Saturday, and having
+no feelings of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even at
+the moment, he set about it in a very orderly manner, with all the
+observances, which he supposed a regular part of the business. On
+finding Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of the younger girls together,
+soon after breakfast, he addressed the mother in these words:
+
+“May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth,
+when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the
+course of this morning?”
+
+Before Elizabeth had time for anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs.
+Bennet answered instantly, “Oh dear!--yes--certainly. I am sure Lizzy
+will be very happy--I am sure she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I
+want you up stairs.” And, gathering her work together, she was hastening
+away, when Elizabeth called out:
+
+“Dear madam, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse
+me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am
+going away myself.”
+
+“No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you to stay where you are.” And upon
+Elizabeth’s seeming really, with vexed and embarrassed looks, about to
+escape, she added: “Lizzy, I _insist_ upon your staying and hearing Mr.
+Collins.”
+
+Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction--and a moment’s
+consideration making her also sensible that it would be wisest to get it
+over as soon and as quietly as possible, she sat down again and tried to
+conceal, by incessant employment the feelings which were divided between
+distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as soon as
+they were gone, Mr. Collins began.
+
+“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from
+doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You
+would have been less amiable in my eyes had there _not_ been this little
+unwillingness; but allow me to assure you, that I have your respected
+mother’s permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the
+purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to
+dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as
+soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of
+my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this
+subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for
+marrying--and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design
+of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”
+
+The idea of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away
+with by his feelings, made Elizabeth so near laughing, that she could
+not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further,
+and he continued:
+
+“My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for
+every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example
+of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will
+add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly--which perhaps I ought
+to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and
+recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling
+patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked
+too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I
+left Hunsford--between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was
+arranging Miss de Bourgh’s footstool, that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you
+must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose
+a gentlewoman for _my_ sake; and for your _own_, let her be an active,
+useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small
+income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as
+you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the
+way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice
+and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the
+advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond
+anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be
+acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and
+respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general
+intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views
+were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I
+can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that
+being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured
+father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy
+myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that
+the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy
+event takes place--which, however, as I have already said, may not
+be for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and
+I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing
+remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the
+violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and
+shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well
+aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds
+in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother’s
+decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head,
+therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that
+no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married.”
+
+It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.
+
+“You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that I have made no
+answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for
+the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of
+your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to
+decline them.”
+
+“I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the
+hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the
+man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their
+favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a
+third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just
+said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”
+
+“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is a rather
+extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not
+one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so
+daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second
+time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make _me_
+happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who
+could make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I
+am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the
+situation.”
+
+“Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” said Mr. Collins
+very gravely--“but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all
+disapprove of you. And you may be certain when I have the honour of
+seeing her again, I shall speak in the very highest terms of your
+modesty, economy, and other amiable qualification.”
+
+“Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You
+must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment
+of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by
+refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise.
+In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your
+feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn
+estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may
+be considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she
+thus spoke, she would have quitted the room, had Mr. Collins not thus
+addressed her:
+
+“When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I
+shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given
+me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I
+know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on
+the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to
+encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the
+female character.”
+
+“Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some warmth, “you puzzle me
+exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form
+of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as
+to convince you of its being one.”
+
+“You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your
+refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for
+believing it are briefly these: It does not appear to me that my hand is
+unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would
+be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections
+with the family of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are
+circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into further
+consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no
+means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your
+portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo
+the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must
+therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me,
+I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by
+suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”
+
+“I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind
+of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would
+rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you
+again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but
+to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect
+forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant
+female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking
+the truth from her heart.”
+
+“You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward
+gallantry; “and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express
+authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of
+being acceptable.”
+
+To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make
+no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew; determined, if
+he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering
+encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be uttered
+in such a manner as to be decisive, and whose behaviour at least could
+not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an elegant female.
+
+
+
+Chapter 20
+
+
+Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of his
+successful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in the vestibule
+to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner saw Elizabeth open
+the door and with quick step pass her towards the staircase, than she
+entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself in
+warm terms on the happy prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins
+received and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and then
+proceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with the result
+of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied, since the
+refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally flow
+from her bashful modesty and the genuine delicacy of her character.
+
+This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet; she would have been
+glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter had meant to encourage
+him by protesting against his proposals, but she dared not believe it,
+and could not help saying so.
+
+“But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, “that Lizzy shall be
+brought to reason. I will speak to her about it directly. She is a very
+headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest but I will
+_make_ her know it.”
+
+“Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if
+she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would
+altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who
+naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore she
+actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not
+to force her into accepting me, because if liable to such defects of
+temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”
+
+“Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is
+only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as
+good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and
+we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”
+
+She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly to her
+husband, called out as she entered the library, “Oh! Mr. Bennet, you
+are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. You must come and make
+Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you
+do not make haste he will change his mind and not have _her_.”
+
+Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them
+on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in the least altered by
+her communication.
+
+“I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” said he, when she had
+finished her speech. “Of what are you talking?”
+
+“Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins,
+and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”
+
+“And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopeless business.”
+
+“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her
+marrying him.”
+
+“Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the
+library.
+
+“Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for
+you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made
+you an offer of marriage. Is it true?” Elizabeth replied that it was.
+“Very well--and this offer of marriage you have refused?”
+
+“I have, sir.”
+
+“Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your
+accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?”
+
+“Yes, or I will never see her again.”
+
+“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must
+be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you
+again if you do _not_ marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again
+if you _do_.”
+
+Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning,
+but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the
+affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.
+
+“What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in talking this way? You promised me to
+_insist_ upon her marrying him.”
+
+“My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request.
+First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the
+present occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the
+library to myself as soon as may be.”
+
+Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband, did
+Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth again and again;
+coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to secure Jane
+in her interest; but Jane, with all possible mildness, declined
+interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes with real earnestness, and
+sometimes with playful gaiety, replied to her attacks. Though her manner
+varied, however, her determination never did.
+
+Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what had passed.
+He thought too well of himself to comprehend on what motives his cousin
+could refuse him; and though his pride was hurt, he suffered in no other
+way. His regard for her was quite imaginary; and the possibility of her
+deserving her mother’s reproach prevented his feeling any regret.
+
+While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend
+the day with them. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to
+her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such
+fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has
+made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”
+
+Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by Kitty,
+who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had they entered the
+breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise began on
+the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating
+her to persuade her friend Lizzy to comply with the wishes of all her
+family. “Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added in a melancholy tone,
+“for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used,
+nobody feels for my poor nerves.”
+
+Charlotte’s reply was spared by the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.
+
+“Aye, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned
+as may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided
+she can have her own way. But I tell you, Miss Lizzy--if you take it
+into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way,
+you will never get a husband at all--and I am sure I do not know who is
+to maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep
+you--and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told
+you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again,
+and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking
+to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking
+to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have
+no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it
+is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”
+
+Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, sensible that
+any attempt to reason with her or soothe her would only increase the
+irritation. She talked on, therefore, without interruption from any of
+them, till they were joined by Mr. Collins, who entered the room with
+an air more stately than usual, and on perceiving whom, she said to
+the girls, “Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold
+your tongues, and let me and Mr. Collins have a little conversation
+together.”
+
+Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed, but
+Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all she could; and Charlotte,
+detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after
+herself and all her family were very minute, and then by a little
+curiosity, satisfied herself with walking to the window and pretending
+not to hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet began the projected
+conversation: “Oh! Mr. Collins!”
+
+“My dear madam,” replied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point.
+Far be it from me,” he presently continued, in a voice that marked his
+displeasure, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation
+to inevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty of a
+young man who has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment;
+and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt
+of my positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand;
+for I have often observed that resignation is never so perfect as
+when the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our
+estimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect
+to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to
+your daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the
+compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my
+behalf. My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my
+dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own. But we are all
+liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair.
+My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due
+consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my _manner_
+has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologise.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 21
+
+
+The discussion of Mr. Collins’s offer was now nearly at an end, and
+Elizabeth had only to suffer from the uncomfortable feelings necessarily
+attending it, and occasionally from some peevish allusions of her
+mother. As for the gentleman himself, _his_ feelings were chiefly
+expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by trying to avoid her,
+but by stiffness of manner and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke
+to her, and the assiduous attentions which he had been so sensible of
+himself were transferred for the rest of the day to Miss Lucas, whose
+civility in listening to him was a seasonable relief to them all, and
+especially to her friend.
+
+The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill-humour or ill
+health. Mr. Collins was also in the same state of angry pride. Elizabeth
+had hoped that his resentment might shorten his visit, but his plan did
+not appear in the least affected by it. He was always to have gone on
+Saturday, and to Saturday he meant to stay.
+
+After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Wickham
+were returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball.
+He joined them on their entering the town, and attended them to their
+aunt’s where his regret and vexation, and the concern of everybody, was
+well talked over. To Elizabeth, however, he voluntarily acknowledged
+that the necessity of his absence _had_ been self-imposed.
+
+“I found,” said he, “as the time drew near that I had better not meet
+Mr. Darcy; that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so
+many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes
+might arise unpleasant to more than myself.”
+
+She highly approved his forbearance, and they had leisure for a full
+discussion of it, and for all the commendation which they civilly
+bestowed on each other, as Wickham and another officer walked back with
+them to Longbourn, and during the walk he particularly attended to
+her. His accompanying them was a double advantage; she felt all the
+compliment it offered to herself, and it was most acceptable as an
+occasion of introducing him to her father and mother.
+
+Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came
+from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little,
+hot-pressed paper, well covered with a lady’s fair, flowing hand; and
+Elizabeth saw her sister’s countenance change as she read it, and saw
+her dwelling intently on some particular passages. Jane recollected
+herself soon, and putting the letter away, tried to join with her usual
+cheerfulness in the general conversation; but Elizabeth felt an anxiety
+on the subject which drew off her attention even from Wickham; and no
+sooner had he and his companion taken leave, than a glance from Jane
+invited her to follow her up stairs. When they had gained their own room,
+Jane, taking out the letter, said:
+
+“This is from Caroline Bingley; what it contains has surprised me a good
+deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on
+their way to town--and without any intention of coming back again. You
+shall hear what she says.”
+
+She then read the first sentence aloud, which comprised the information
+of their having just resolved to follow their brother to town directly,
+and of their meaning to dine in Grosvenor Street, where Mr. Hurst had a
+house. The next was in these words: “I do not pretend to regret anything
+I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend;
+but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that
+delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may
+lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved
+correspondence. I depend on you for that.” To these highflown
+expressions Elizabeth listened with all the insensibility of distrust;
+and though the suddenness of their removal surprised her, she saw
+nothing in it really to lament; it was not to be supposed that their
+absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as
+to the loss of their society, she was persuaded that Jane must cease to
+regard it, in the enjoyment of his.
+
+“It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be
+able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not
+hope that the period of future happiness to which Miss Bingley looks
+forward may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful
+intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater
+satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by
+them.”
+
+“Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into
+Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you:”
+
+“When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which
+took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we
+are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when
+Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have
+determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend
+his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are
+already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my
+dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd--but of
+that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may
+abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your
+beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the
+three of whom we shall deprive you.”
+
+“It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this
+winter.”
+
+“It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean that he _should_.”
+
+“Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own
+master. But you do not know _all_. I _will_ read you the passage which
+particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from _you_.”
+
+“Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth,
+_we_ are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think
+Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments;
+and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into
+something still more interesting, from the hope we dare entertain of
+her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before
+mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the
+country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them
+unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have
+frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing;
+her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s
+partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most
+capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to
+favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest
+Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness
+of so many?”
+
+“What do you think of _this_ sentence, my dear Lizzy?” said Jane as she
+finished it. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that
+Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is
+perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that if she
+suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means (most kindly!) to
+put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?”
+
+“Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?”
+
+“Most willingly.”
+
+“You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is
+in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him
+to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he
+does not care about you.”
+
+Jane shook her head.
+
+“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you
+together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She
+is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr.
+Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the
+case is this: We are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she
+is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion
+that when there has been _one_ intermarriage, she may have less trouble
+in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and
+I dare say it would succeed, if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But,
+my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley
+tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest
+degree less sensible of _your_ merit than when he took leave of you on
+Tuesday, or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead
+of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”
+
+“If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your
+representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the
+foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving
+anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is that she is deceiving
+herself.”
+
+“That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you
+will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived, by all means.
+You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.”
+
+“But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in
+accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry
+elsewhere?”
+
+“You must decide for yourself,” said Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature
+deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is
+more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you by
+all means to refuse him.”
+
+“How can you talk so?” said Jane, faintly smiling. “You must know that
+though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could
+not hesitate.”
+
+“I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider
+your situation with much compassion.”
+
+“But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be
+required. A thousand things may arise in six months!”
+
+The idea of his returning no more Elizabeth treated with the utmost
+contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s
+interested wishes, and she could not for a moment suppose that those
+wishes, however openly or artfully spoken, could influence a young man
+so totally independent of everyone.
+
+She represented to her sister as forcibly as possible what she felt
+on the subject, and had soon the pleasure of seeing its happy effect.
+Jane’s temper was not desponding, and she was gradually led to hope,
+though the diffidence of affection sometimes overcame the hope, that
+Bingley would return to Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart.
+
+They agreed that Mrs. Bennet should only hear of the departure of the
+family, without being alarmed on the score of the gentleman’s conduct;
+but even this partial communication gave her a great deal of concern,
+and she bewailed it as exceedingly unlucky that the ladies should happen
+to go away just as they were all getting so intimate together. After
+lamenting it, however, at some length, she had the consolation 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 22
+
+
+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 else 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
+secure of success if he had not been to leave Hertfordshire so very
+soon. But here she did injustice to the fire and independence of his
+character, for it led him to escape out of Longbourn House the next
+morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw
+himself at her feet. He was anxious to avoid the notice of his cousins,
+from a conviction that if they saw him depart, they could not fail to
+conjecture his design, and he was not willing to have the attempt known
+till its success might 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 excited before, how many years longer
+Mr. Bennet was likely to live; and Sir William gave it as his decided
+opinion, that whenever Mr. Collins should be in possession of the
+Longbourn estate, it would be highly expedient that both he and his wife
+should make their appearance at St. James’s. The whole family, in short,
+were properly overjoyed on the occasion. The younger girls formed hopes
+of _coming out_ a year or two sooner than they might otherwise have
+done; and the boys were relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte’s
+dying an old maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had
+gained her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections were
+in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible
+nor agreeable; his society was irksome, and his attachment to her must
+be imaginary. But still he would be her husband. Without thinking highly
+either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was
+the only provision for well-educated young women of small fortune,
+and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest
+preservative from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at
+the age of twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all
+the good luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance in the business
+was the surprise it must occasion to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship
+she valued beyond that of any other person. Elizabeth would wonder,
+and probably would blame her; and though her resolution was not to be
+shaken, her feelings must be hurt by such a disapprobation. She resolved
+to give her the information herself, and therefore charged Mr. Collins,
+when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no hint of what had
+passed before any of the family. A promise of secrecy was of course very
+dutifully given, but it could not be kept without difficulty; for the
+curiosity excited by his long absence burst forth in such very direct
+questions on his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was
+at the same time exercising great self-denial, for he was longing to
+publish his prosperous love.
+
+As he was to begin his journey too early on the morrow to see any of the
+family, the ceremony of leave-taking was performed when the ladies moved
+for the night; and Mrs. Bennet, with great politeness and cordiality,
+said how happy they should be to see him at Longbourn again, whenever
+his 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 upon 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, and for every other mark of your
+regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though
+my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now
+take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my
+cousin Elizabeth.”
+
+With proper civilities the ladies then withdrew; all of them equally
+surprised that he meditated a quick return. Mrs. Bennet wished to
+understand by it that he thought of paying his addresses to one of her
+younger girls, and Mary might have been prevailed on to accept him.
+She rated his abilities much higher than any of the others; there was
+a solidity in his reflections which often struck her, and though by no
+means so clever as herself, she thought that if encouraged to read
+and improve himself by such an example as hers, he might become a very
+agreeable companion. But on the following morning, every hope of this
+kind was done away. Miss Lucas called soon after breakfast, and in a
+private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before.
+
+The possibility of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love with her
+friend had once occurred to Elizabeth within the last day or two; but
+that Charlotte could encourage him seemed almost as far from
+possibility as she could encourage him herself, and her astonishment was
+consequently so great as to overcome at first the bounds of decorum, and
+she could not help crying out:
+
+“Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte--impossible!”
+
+The steady countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her
+story, gave way to a momentary confusion here on receiving so direct a
+reproach; though, as it was no more than she expected, she soon regained
+her composure, and calmly replied:
+
+“Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible
+that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion,
+because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”
+
+But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a strong effort
+for it, was able to assure 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 over, I hope you will be
+satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know; I never
+was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins’s
+character, connection, 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 had not supposed it to be 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 23
+
+
+Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what
+she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorised to mention
+it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter, to
+announce her engagement to the family. With many compliments to them,
+and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the
+houses, he unfolded the matter--to an audience not merely wondering, but
+incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness,
+protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and
+often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:
+
+“Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know
+that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”
+
+Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne
+without anger such treatment; but Sir William’s good breeding carried
+him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the
+truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the
+most forbearing courtesy.
+
+Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant
+a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by
+mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and
+endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters
+by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she
+was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the
+happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character
+of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.
+
+Mrs. Bennet was in fact too much overpowered to say a great deal while
+Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings
+found a rapid vent. In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving
+the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins
+had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be
+happy together; and fourthly, that the match might be broken off. Two
+inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that
+Elizabeth was the real cause of the mischief; and the other that she
+herself had been barbarously misused by them all; and on these two
+points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day. Nothing could
+console and nothing could appease her. Nor did that day wear out her
+resentment. A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without
+scolding her, a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William
+or Lady Lucas without being rude, and many months were gone before she
+could at all forgive their daughter.
+
+Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such
+as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for
+it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had
+been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and
+more foolish than his daughter!
+
+Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match; but she said
+less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness;
+nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable. Kitty
+and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a
+clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news
+to spread at Meryton.
+
+Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort
+on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she
+called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was,
+though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been
+enough to drive happiness away.
+
+Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them
+mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that
+no real confidence could ever subsist between them again. Her
+disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her
+sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could
+never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious,
+as Bingley had now been gone a week and nothing more 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
+twelvemonth’s abode in the family might have prompted. After discharging
+his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many
+rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection
+of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was
+merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready
+to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither
+he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Catherine,
+he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take
+place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable
+argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him
+the happiest of men.
+
+Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of
+pleasure to Mrs. Bennet. On the contrary, she was as much disposed to
+complain of it as her husband. It was very strange that he should come
+to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient
+and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having visitors in the house
+while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the
+most disagreeable. Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and
+they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued
+absence.
+
+Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject. Day after
+day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the
+report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to
+Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs.
+Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous
+falsehood.
+
+Even Elizabeth began to fear--not that Bingley was indifferent--but that
+his sisters would be successful in keeping him away. Unwilling as
+she was to admit an idea so destructive of Jane’s happiness, and so
+dishonorable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its
+frequently occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters
+and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss
+Darcy and the amusements of London might be too much, she feared, for
+the strength of his attachment.
+
+As for Jane, _her_ anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more
+painful than Elizabeth’s, but whatever she felt she was desirous of
+concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject
+was never alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mother,
+an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her
+impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he
+did not come back she would 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 Monday fortnight, but his
+reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his
+first introduction. He was too happy, however, to need much attention;
+and luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them
+from a great deal of his company. The chief of every day was spent by
+him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time
+to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.
+
+Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state. The very mention of
+anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour,
+and wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of. The sight
+of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that house, she
+regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte came to see
+them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and
+whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that
+they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself
+and her daughters out of the house, as soon as Mr. Bennet were dead. She
+complained bitterly of all this to her husband.
+
+“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte
+Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to
+make way for _her_, and live to see her take her 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 24
+
+
+Miss Bingley’s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very first
+sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for
+the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had
+time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left
+the country.
+
+Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest
+of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the
+writer, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy’s praise occupied
+the chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on, and Caroline
+boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict
+the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former
+letter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an
+inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of
+the latter with regard to new furniture.
+
+Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this,
+heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concern
+for her sister, and resentment against all others. To Caroline’s
+assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy she paid no
+credit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she
+had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she
+could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness
+of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave
+of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice of his own happiness
+to the caprice of their inclination. 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; whatever 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:
+
+“Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She can have no
+idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But
+I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall
+all be as we were before.”
+
+Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said
+nothing.
+
+“You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have
+no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my
+acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear,
+and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not _that_ pain. A
+little time, therefore--I shall certainly try to get the better.”
+
+With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately,
+that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it
+has done no harm to anyone but myself.”
+
+“My dear Jane!” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness
+and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say
+to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you
+deserve.”
+
+Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back
+the praise on her sister’s warm affection.
+
+“Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair. _You_ wish to think all the
+world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want
+to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not
+be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your
+privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people
+whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see
+of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms
+my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the
+little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of 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 steady, prudent character. Remember that she is one of a
+large family; that as to fortune, it is a most eligible match; and be
+ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like
+regard and esteem for our cousin.”
+
+“To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else
+could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that
+Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her
+understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a
+conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; you know he is, as well as
+I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who married him
+cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though
+it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual,
+change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade
+yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of
+danger security for happiness.”
+
+“I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied
+Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing them happy
+together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You
+mentioned _two_ instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat
+you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking _that person_ to blame, and
+saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy
+ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man
+to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but
+our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than
+it does.”
+
+“And men take care that they should.”
+
+“If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea
+of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”
+
+“I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,”
+ said Elizabeth; “but without scheming to do wrong, or to make others
+unhappy, there may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness,
+want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution,
+will do the business.”
+
+“And do you impute it to either of those?”
+
+“Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying what
+I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can.”
+
+“You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?”
+
+“Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”
+
+“I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can
+only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me, no other woman can
+secure it.”
+
+“Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his
+happiness; they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they
+may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great
+connections, and pride.”
+
+“Beyond a doubt, they _do_ wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane;
+“but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They have
+known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love
+her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely
+they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think
+herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very
+objectionable? If they believed him attached to me, they would not try
+to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an
+affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most
+unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been
+mistaken--or, at least, it is light, 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 was little chance of her ever considering it with
+less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what she
+did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely the
+effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw her
+no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at
+the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet’s best
+comfort was that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.
+
+Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. “So, Lizzy,” said he one day,
+“your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next to
+being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then.
+It is something to think of, and it 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 in
+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 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 know how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they
+had known anything of the matter.
+
+Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be
+any extenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the society
+of Hertfordshire; her mild and steady candour always pleaded for
+allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes--but by everybody else
+Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.
+
+
+
+Chapter 25
+
+
+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 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. Phillips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant
+woman, and a great favourite with all her Longbourn nieces. Between the
+two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a particular regard.
+They had frequently been staying with her in town.
+
+The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business on her arrival was to
+distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was
+done she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen.
+Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They
+had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her
+girls had been upon 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 it not
+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 the Longbourn estate is just
+as much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people indeed,
+sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of
+them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted
+so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves
+before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the
+greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, of
+long sleeves.”
+
+Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before,
+in the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her
+sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the
+conversation.
+
+When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. “It
+seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I am
+sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, such
+as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty girl
+for a few weeks, and when accident separates them, so easily forgets
+her, that these sort of inconsistencies are very frequent.”
+
+“An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth, “but it will not
+do for _us_. We do not suffer by _accident_. It does not often
+happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of
+independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in
+love with only a few days before.”
+
+“But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so
+doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as
+often applied to feelings which arise 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 upon 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 that they should meet at all,
+unless he really comes to see her.”
+
+“And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his
+friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such
+a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may
+perhaps have _heard_ of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he
+would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its
+impurities, were he once to enter it; and depend upon it, Mr. Bingley
+never stirs without him.”
+
+“So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane
+correspond with his sister? _She_ will not be able to help calling.”
+
+“She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”
+
+But in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this
+point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being
+withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which
+convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely
+hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that
+his affection might be reanimated, 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 Phillipses,
+the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its
+engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment
+of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family
+dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always
+made part of it--of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and
+on these occasions, Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s
+warm commendation, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing them,
+from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference
+of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and
+she resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left
+Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such
+an attachment.
+
+To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure,
+unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago,
+before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very
+part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many
+acquaintances in common; and though Wickham had been little there since
+the death of Darcy’s father, 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 some 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 26
+
+
+Mrs. Gardiner’s caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given
+on the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone; after
+honestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:
+
+“You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because
+you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking
+openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve
+yourself or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want
+of fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against
+_him_; he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he
+ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you
+must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all
+expect you to use it. Your father would depend on _your_ resolution and
+good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”
+
+“My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”
+
+“Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”
+
+“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of
+myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I
+can prevent it.”
+
+“Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”
+
+“I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in love with
+Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison,
+the most agreeable man I ever saw--and if he becomes really attached to
+me--I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence
+of it. Oh! _that_ abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does
+me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My
+father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I
+should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but
+since we see every day that where there is affection, young people
+are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into
+engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many
+of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it
+would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not
+to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first
+object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short,
+I will do my best.”
+
+“Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very
+often. At least, you should not _remind_ your mother of inviting him.”
+
+“As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth with a conscious smile: “very
+true, it will be wise in me to refrain from _that_. But do not imagine
+that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been
+so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the
+necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my
+honour, I will try to do what I think to be the 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 downstairs together, Charlotte said:
+
+“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”
+
+“_That_ you certainly shall.”
+
+“And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?”
+
+“We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”
+
+“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to
+come to Hunsford.”
+
+Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the
+visit.
+
+“My father and Maria are coming to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and I
+hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as
+welcome as either of them.”
+
+The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from
+the church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on
+the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend; and their
+correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that
+it should be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never
+address her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over,
+and though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the
+sake of what had been, rather than what was. Charlotte’s first letters
+were received with a good deal of eagerness; there could not but be
+curiosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she would
+like Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself to
+be; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte
+expressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. She
+wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing
+which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and
+roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most
+friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and
+Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait
+for her own visit there to know the rest.
+
+Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to announce their
+safe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it
+would be in her power to say something of the Bingleys.
+
+Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience
+generally is. Jane had been a week in town without either seeing or
+hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that
+her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been
+lost.
+
+“My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the
+town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”
+
+She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley.
+“I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very
+glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming
+to London. I was right, therefore, my last letter had never reached
+her. I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much
+engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that
+Miss Darcy was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was
+not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall
+see them soon here.”
+
+Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that
+accident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town.
+
+Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to
+persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be
+blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning
+for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the
+visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more,
+the alteration of her manner would allow Jane to deceive herself no
+longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will
+prove what she felt.
+
+“My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in her
+better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been
+entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my dear sister,
+though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I
+still assert that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was
+as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend her reason for
+wishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to
+happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not
+return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I
+receive in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that
+she had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not
+calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was
+in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went away I was
+perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity,
+though I cannot help blaming her. She was very wrong in singling me out
+as she did; I can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on
+her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been acting
+wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her brother is the
+cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and though _we_ know
+this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily
+account for her behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he is to
+his sister, whatever anxiety she must 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 ago.
+He knows of my being in town, I am certain, from something she said
+herself; and yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as if she
+wanted to persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I
+cannot understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should
+be almost tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity
+in all this. But I will endeavour to banish every painful thought,
+and think only of what will make me happy--your affection, and the
+invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from you very
+soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never returning to Netherfield
+again, of giving up the house, but not with any certainty. We had better
+not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts
+from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and
+Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there.--Yours, etc.”
+
+This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned as she
+considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least.
+All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not
+even wish for a renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on
+every review of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible
+advantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr.
+Darcy’s sister, as by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly
+regret what he had thrown away.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise
+concerning that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth
+had such to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to
+herself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over,
+he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was watchful enough to
+see it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain.
+Her heart had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied
+with believing that _she_ would have been his only choice, had fortune
+permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most
+remarkable charm of the young lady to whom he was now rendering himself
+agreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than
+in Charlotte’s, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence.
+Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and while able to
+suppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her, she was
+ready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could very
+sincerely wish him happy.
+
+All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating the
+circumstances, she thus went on: “I am now convinced, my dear aunt, that
+I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that pure
+and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and
+wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial
+towards _him_; they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find
+out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to
+think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My
+watchfulness has been effectual; and though I certainly should be a more
+interesting object to all my acquaintances 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.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 27
+
+
+With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise
+diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and
+sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take
+Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously of
+going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the plan
+and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure
+as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing
+Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There
+was novelty in the scheme, and as, with such a mother and such
+uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change
+was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would moreover give her
+a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have
+been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly,
+and was finally settled according to Charlotte’s first sketch. She was
+to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement
+of spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became
+perfect as plan could be.
+
+The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her,
+and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he
+told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.
+
+The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly; on
+his side even more. His present pursuit could not make him forget that
+Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the
+first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired; and in his manner
+of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her of
+what she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their
+opinion of her--their opinion of everybody--would always coincide, there
+was a solicitude, an interest which she felt must ever attach her to
+him with a most sincere regard; and she parted from him convinced that,
+whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable
+and pleasing.
+
+Her fellow-travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her
+think him less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a
+good-humoured girl, but as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say
+that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much
+delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but
+she had known Sir William’s too long. He could tell her nothing new of
+the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities were
+worn out, like his information.
+
+It was a journey of only twenty-four miles, and they began it so early
+as to be in Gracechurch Street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s
+door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival; when
+they entered the passage she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth,
+looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it healthful and
+lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troop of little boys and girls,
+whose eagerness for their cousin’s appearance would not allow them to
+wait in the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as they had not seen
+her for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming lower. All was joy and
+kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and
+shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres.
+
+Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first object was her
+sister; and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to
+her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her
+spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however,
+to hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the
+particulars also of Miss Bingley’s visit in Gracechurch Street, and
+repeated conversations occurring at different times between Jane and
+herself, which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the
+acquaintance.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and
+complimented her on bearing it so well.
+
+“But my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I
+should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.”
+
+“Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs,
+between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end,
+and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me,
+because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get
+a girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is
+mercenary.”
+
+“If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know
+what to think.”
+
+“She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her.”
+
+“But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death
+made her mistress of this fortune.”
+
+“No--why should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain _my_
+affections because I had no money, what occasion could there be for
+making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally
+poor?”
+
+“But there seems an indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her
+so soon after this event.”
+
+“A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant
+decorums which other people may observe. If _she_ does not object to it,
+why should _we_?”
+
+“_Her_ not objecting does not justify _him_. It only shows her being
+deficient in something herself--sense or feeling.”
+
+“Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. _He_ shall be
+mercenary, and _she_ shall be foolish.”
+
+“No, Lizzy, that is what I do _not_ choose. I should be sorry, you know,
+to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.”
+
+“Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in
+Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not
+much better. I am sick of them all. Thank Heaven! I am going to-morrow
+where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has
+neither manner 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 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. “Oh, 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 young 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 quarreling about its relative situation. Let _our_
+first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of
+travellers.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 28
+
+
+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 palings of Rosings Park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth
+smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.
+
+At length the Parsonage was discernible. The garden sloping to the
+road, the house standing in it, the green pales, and the laurel hedge,
+everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte
+appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate which
+led by a short gravel walk to the house, amidst the nods and smiles of
+the whole party. In a moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing
+at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the
+liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with
+coming when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw
+instantly that her cousin’s manners were not altered by his marriage;
+his formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some
+minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries after all her
+family. They were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the
+neatness of the entrance, taken into the house; and as soon as they
+were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious
+formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife’s
+offers of refreshment.
+
+Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory; and she could not help
+in fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its
+aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her,
+as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But
+though everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to
+gratify him by any sigh of repentance, and rather looked with wonder at
+her friend that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion.
+When Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be
+ashamed, which certainly was not unseldom, she involuntarily turned her
+eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush; but
+in general Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to
+admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to
+the fender, to give an account of their journey, and of all that had
+happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the
+garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of
+which he attended himself. To work in this 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 kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the
+prospect of Rosings, afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered
+the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome
+modern building, well situated on rising ground.
+
+From his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows;
+but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white
+frost, turned back; and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte
+took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased,
+probably, to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband’s
+help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient; and everything
+was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency of which
+Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be
+forgotten, there was really an air of great comfort throughout, and by
+Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often
+forgotten.
+
+She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It
+was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins joining
+in, observed:
+
+“Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine
+de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will
+be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I
+doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice
+when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying 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 already been written; and when it closed,
+Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon
+Charlotte’s degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding,
+and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it
+was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit
+would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious
+interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with
+Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all.
+
+About the middle of the next day, as she was in her room getting ready
+for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to speak the whole house in
+confusion; and, after listening a moment, she heard somebody running
+up stairs 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--
+
+“Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for
+there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make
+haste, and come down this moment.”
+
+Elizabeth asked questions in vain; Maria would tell her nothing more,
+and down they ran into the dining-room, which fronted the lane, in
+quest of this wonder; It was two ladies stopping in a low phaeton at the
+garden gate.
+
+“And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs
+were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her
+daughter.”
+
+“La! my dear,” said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake, “it is not
+Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them;
+the other is Miss de Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little
+creature. Who would have thought that she could be so thin and small?”
+
+“She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind.
+Why does she not come in?”
+
+“Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours
+when Miss de Bourgh comes in.”
+
+“I like her appearance,” said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. “She
+looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will
+make him a very proper wife.”
+
+Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation
+with the ladies; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s high diversion, was
+stationed in the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness
+before him, and constantly bowing whenever Miss de Bourgh looked that
+way.
+
+At length there was nothing more to be said; the ladies drove on, and
+the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two
+girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which
+Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked
+to dine at Rosings the next day.
+
+
+
+Chapter 29
+
+
+Mr. Collins’s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was complete.
+The power of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his wondering
+visitors, and of letting them see her civility towards himself and his
+wife, was exactly what he had wished for; and that an opportunity
+of doing it should be given so soon, was such an instance of Lady
+Catherine’s condescension, as he knew not how to admire enough.
+
+“I confess,” said he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by
+her ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening at
+Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it
+would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? Who
+could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine there
+(an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so immediately
+after your arrival!”
+
+“I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William,
+“from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which
+my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such
+instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”
+
+Scarcely anything was talked of the whole day or next morning but their
+visit to Rosings. Mr. Collins was carefully instructing them in what
+they were to expect, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and
+so splendid a dinner, might not wholly overpower them.
+
+When the ladies were separating for the toilette, he said to Elizabeth--
+
+“Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady
+Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which
+becomes herself and her daughter. I would advise you merely to put on
+whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest--there is no occasion
+for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you
+for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank
+preserved.”
+
+While they were dressing, he came two or three times to their different
+doors, to recommend their being quick, as Lady Catherine very much
+objected to be kept waiting for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of
+her ladyship, and her manner of living, quite frightened Maria Lucas
+who had been little used to company, and she looked forward to her
+introduction at Rosings with as much apprehension as her father had done
+to his presentation at St. James’s.
+
+As the weather was fine, they had a pleasant walk of about half a
+mile across the park. Every park has its beauty and its prospects; and
+Elizabeth saw much to be pleased with, though she could not be in such
+raptures as Mr. Collins expected the scene to inspire, and was but
+slightly affected by his enumeration of the windows in front of the
+house, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had originally
+cost Sir Lewis de Bourgh.
+
+When they ascended the steps to the hall, Maria’s alarm was every
+moment increasing, and even Sir William did not look perfectly calm.
+Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady
+Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents or
+miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money or rank she thought
+she could witness without trepidation.
+
+From the entrance-hall, of which Mr. Collins pointed out, with a
+rapturous air, the fine proportion and the finished ornaments, they
+followed the servants through an ante-chamber, to the room where Lady
+Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson were sitting. Her ladyship,
+with great condescension, arose to receive them; and as Mrs. Collins had
+settled it with her husband that the office of introduction should
+be hers, it was performed in a proper manner, without any of those
+apologies and thanks which he would have thought necessary.
+
+In spite of having been at St. James’s, Sir William was so completely
+awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had but just courage
+enough to make a very low bow, and take his seat without saying a word;
+and his daughter, frightened almost out of her senses, sat on the edge
+of her chair, not knowing which way to look. Elizabeth found herself
+quite equal to the scene, and could observe the three ladies before her
+composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, large woman, with strongly-marked
+features, which might once have been handsome. Her air was not
+conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them such as to make her
+visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by
+silence; but whatever she said was spoken in so authoritative a tone,
+as marked her self-importance, and brought Mr. Wickham immediately to
+Elizabeth’s mind; and from the observation of the day altogether, she
+believed Lady Catherine to be exactly what he represented.
+
+When, after examining the mother, in whose countenance and deportment
+she soon found some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on the
+daughter, she could almost have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her
+being so thin and so small. There was neither in figure nor face any
+likeness between the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly; her
+features, though not plain, were insignificant; and she spoke very
+little, except in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose appearance
+there was nothing remarkable, and who was entirely engaged in listening
+to what she said, and placing a screen in the proper direction before
+her eyes.
+
+After sitting a few minutes, they were all sent to one of the windows to
+admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to point out its beauties,
+and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was much better worth
+looking at in the summer.
+
+The dinner was exceedingly handsome, and there were all the servants and
+all the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised; and, as he had
+likewise foretold, he took his seat at the bottom of the table, by her
+ladyship’s desire, and looked as if he felt that life could furnish
+nothing greater. He carved, and ate, and praised with delighted
+alacrity; and every dish was commended, first by him and then by Sir
+William, who was now enough recovered to echo whatever his son-in-law
+said, in a manner which Elizabeth wondered Lady Catherine could bear.
+But Lady Catherine seemed gratified by their excessive admiration, and
+gave most gracious smiles, especially when any dish on the table proved
+a novelty to them. The party did not supply much conversation. Elizabeth
+was ready to speak whenever there was an opening, but she was seated
+between Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh--the former of whom was engaged in
+listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter said not a word to her all
+dinner-time. Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how little
+Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing
+she was indisposed. Maria thought speaking out of the question, and the
+gentlemen did nothing but eat and admire.
+
+When the ladies returned to the drawing-room, there was little to
+be done but to hear Lady Catherine talk, which she did without any
+intermission till coffee came in, delivering her opinion on every
+subject in so decisive a manner, as proved that she was not used to
+have her judgement controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s domestic
+concerns familiarly and minutely, gave her a great deal of advice as
+to the management of them all; told her how everything ought to be
+regulated in so small a family as hers, and instructed her as to the
+care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth found that nothing was
+beneath this great lady’s attention, which could furnish her with an
+occasion of dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse
+with Mrs. Collins, she addressed a variety of questions to Maria and
+Elizabeth, but especially to the latter, of whose connections she knew
+the least, and who she observed to Mrs. Collins was a very genteel,
+pretty kind of girl. She asked her, at different times, how many sisters
+she had, whether they were older or younger than herself, whether any of
+them were likely to be married, whether they were handsome, where they
+had been educated, what carriage her father kept, and what had been
+her mother’s maiden name? Elizabeth felt all the impertinence of
+her questions but answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then
+observed,
+
+“Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For your
+sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no
+occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought
+necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss
+Bennet?”
+
+“A little.”
+
+“Oh! then--some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our
+instrument is a capital one, probably superior to----You shall try it
+some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”
+
+“One of them does.”
+
+“Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss
+Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do
+you draw?”
+
+“No, not at all.”
+
+“What, none of you?”
+
+“Not one.”
+
+“That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother
+should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”
+
+“My mother would have had 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.”
+
+“Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will prevent, and if I had
+known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage
+one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady
+and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is
+wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that
+way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces
+of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and
+it was but the other day that I recommended another young person,
+who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite
+delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalf’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 ones are married! Your younger sisters
+must be very young?”
+
+“Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps _she_ is full young to be
+much in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon
+younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and
+amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to
+marry early. The last-born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth
+as the first. And to be kept back on _such_ a motive! I think it would
+not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”
+
+“Upon my word,” said her ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly
+for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”
+
+“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your
+ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”
+
+Lady Catherine seemed quite astonished at not receiving a direct answer;
+and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the first creature who had ever
+dared to trifle with so much dignified impertinence.
+
+“You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need not
+conceal your age.”
+
+“I am not one-and-twenty.”
+
+When the gentlemen had joined them, and tea was over, the card-tables
+were placed. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat
+down to quadrille; and as Miss de Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the
+two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her
+party. Their table was superlatively stupid. Scarcely a syllable was
+uttered that did not relate to the game, except when Mrs. Jenkinson
+expressed her fears of Miss de Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or
+having too much or too little light. A great deal more passed at the
+other table. Lady Catherine was generally speaking--stating the mistakes
+of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins
+was employed in agreeing to everything her ladyship said, thanking her
+for every fish he won, and apologising if he thought he won too many.
+Sir William did not say much. He was storing his memory with anecdotes
+and noble names.
+
+When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose,
+the tables were broken up, the carriage was offered to Mrs. Collins,
+gratefully accepted and immediately ordered. The party then gathered
+round the fire to hear Lady Catherine determine what weather they were
+to have on the morrow. From these instructions they were summoned by
+the arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr.
+Collins’s side and as many bows on Sir William’s they departed. As soon
+as they had driven from the door, Elizabeth was called on by her cousin
+to give her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, for
+Charlotte’s sake, she made more favourable than it really was. But her
+commendation, though costing her some trouble, could by no means satisfy
+Mr. Collins, and he was very soon obliged to take her ladyship’s praise
+into his own hands.
+
+
+
+Chapter 30
+
+
+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
+morning 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 the window in his own book-room,
+which fronted the road. The room in which the ladies sat was backwards.
+Elizabeth had at first rather wondered that Charlotte should not prefer
+the dining-parlour for common use; it was a better sized room, and had a
+more pleasant aspect; but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent
+reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been
+much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively; and
+she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
+
+From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and
+were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went
+along, and how often especially Miss de Bourgh drove by in her phaeton,
+which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened
+almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and
+had a few minutes’ conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever
+prevailed upon to get out.
+
+Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and
+not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise;
+and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings
+to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many
+hours. Now and then they were honoured with a call from her ladyship,
+and nothing escaped her observation that was passing in the room during
+these visits. She examined into their employments, looked at their work,
+and advised them to do it differently; found fault with the arrangement
+of the furniture; or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she
+accepted any refreshment, seemed to do it only for the sake of finding
+out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat were too large for her family.
+
+Elizabeth soon perceived, that though this great lady was not in
+commission of the peace of 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.
+
+The entertainment of dining at Rosings was repeated about twice a week;
+and, allowing for the loss of Sir William, and there being only one
+card-table in the evening, every such entertainment was the counterpart
+of the first. Their other engagements were few, as the style of living
+in the neighbourhood in general was beyond Mr. Collins’s 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 acquaintances 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 the earliest assurance of it, and after making his
+bow as the carriage turned into the Park, hurried home with the great
+intelligence. On the following morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his
+respects. There were two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for
+Mr. Darcy had brought with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of
+his uncle Lord ----, and, to the great surprise of all the party, when
+Mr. Collins returned, the gentlemen accompanied him. Charlotte had seen
+them from her husband’s room, crossing the road, and immediately running
+into the other, told the girls what an honour they might expect, adding:
+
+“I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would
+never have come so soon to wait upon me.”
+
+Elizabeth had scarcely time to disclaim all right to the compliment,
+before their approach was announced by the door-bell, and shortly
+afterwards the three gentlemen entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam,
+who led the way, was about thirty, not handsome, but in person and
+address most truly the gentleman. Mr. Darcy looked just as he had been
+used to look in Hertfordshire--paid his compliments, with his usual
+reserve, to Mrs. Collins, and whatever might be his feelings toward her
+friend, met her with every appearance of composure. Elizabeth merely
+curtseyed to him without saying a word.
+
+Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into conversation directly with the
+readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; but
+his cousin, after having addressed a slight observation on the house and
+garden to Mrs. Collins, sat for some time without speaking to anybody.
+At length, however, his civility was so far awakened as to inquire of
+Elizabeth after the health of her family. She answered him in the usual
+way, and after a moment’s pause, added:
+
+“My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never
+happened to see her there?”
+
+She was perfectly sensible that he never had; but she wished to see
+whether he would betray any consciousness of what had passed between
+the Bingleys and Jane, and she thought he looked a little confused as he
+answered that he had never been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet. The
+subject was pursued no farther, and the gentlemen soon afterwards went
+away.
+
+
+
+Chapter 31
+
+
+Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the Parsonage,
+and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasures
+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 Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had called at the
+Parsonage more than once during the time, but Mr. Darcy they had seen
+only at church.
+
+The invitation was accepted of course, and at a proper hour they joined
+the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Her ladyship received
+them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so
+acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact,
+almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy,
+much more than to any other person in the room.
+
+Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; anything was a
+welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had
+moreover caught his fancy very much. He now seated himself by her, and
+talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying
+at home, of new books and music, that Elizabeth had never been half so
+well entertained in that room before; and they conversed with so much
+spirit and flow, as to draw the attention of Lady Catherine herself,
+as well as of Mr. Darcy. _His_ eyes had been soon and repeatedly turned
+towards them with a look of curiosity; and that her ladyship, after a
+while, shared the feeling, was more openly acknowledged, for she did not
+scruple to call out:
+
+“What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking
+of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”
+
+“We are speaking of music, madam,” said he, when no longer able to avoid
+a reply.
+
+“Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I
+must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music.
+There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment
+of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt,
+I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health
+had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed
+delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”
+
+Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister’s proficiency.
+
+“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady
+Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel
+if she does not practice a good deal.”
+
+“I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice.
+She practises very constantly.”
+
+“So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write
+to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often
+tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without
+constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she
+will never play really well unless she practises more; and though Mrs.
+Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told
+her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs.
+Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part
+of the house.”
+
+Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made
+no answer.
+
+When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of having
+promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He
+drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then
+talked, as before, to her other nephew; till the latter walked away
+from her, and making with his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte
+stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s
+countenance. Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first
+convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said:
+
+“You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear
+me? 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 at every attempt to intimidate
+me.”
+
+“I shall not say 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 able to expose my real character, in a part
+of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of
+credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all
+that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire--and, give me leave to
+say, very impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such
+things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”
+
+“I am not afraid of you,” said he, smilingly.
+
+“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel
+Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”
+
+“You shall hear then--but prepare yourself for something very dreadful.
+The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know,
+was at a ball--and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced
+only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain
+knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a
+partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”
+
+“I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly
+beyond my own party.”
+
+“True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel
+Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Darcy, “I should have judged better, had I sought an
+introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”
+
+“Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” said Elizabeth, still
+addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and
+education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend
+himself to strangers?”
+
+“I can answer your question,” said Fitzwilliam, “without applying to
+him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”
+
+“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy,
+“of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot
+catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their
+concerns, as I often see done.”
+
+“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the
+masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same
+force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I
+have always supposed it to be my own fault--because I will not take the
+trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe _my_ fingers as
+capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”
+
+Darcy smiled and said, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your
+time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can
+think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”
+
+Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know
+what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began playing again.
+Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said
+to Darcy:
+
+“Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and
+could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion
+of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have
+been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”
+
+Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his
+cousin’s praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other could she
+discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss
+de Bourgh she derived this comfort for Miss Bingley, that he might have
+been just as likely to marry _her_, had she been his relation.
+
+Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s performance, mixing
+with them many instructions on execution and taste. Elizabeth received
+them with all the forbearance of civility, and, at the request of the
+gentlemen, remained at the instrument till her ladyship’s carriage was
+ready to take them all home.
+
+
+
+Chapter 32
+
+
+Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane
+while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village,
+when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a
+visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to
+be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her
+half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions,
+when the door opened, and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and
+Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.
+
+He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised for his
+intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies were
+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 emergence
+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 the future. He has many friends, and
+is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually
+increasing.”
+
+“If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for
+the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we
+might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did
+not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as
+for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same
+principle.”
+
+“I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, “if he were to give it up as
+soon as any eligible purchase offers.”
+
+Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his
+friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined to leave the
+trouble of finding a subject to him.
+
+He took the hint, and soon began with, “This seems a very comfortable
+house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr.
+Collins first came to Hunsford.”
+
+“I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed her
+kindness on a more grateful object.”
+
+“Mr. Collins appears to be 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 for her to be settled within so easy a
+distance of her own family and friends.”
+
+“An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”
+
+“And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s
+journey. Yes, I call it a _very_ easy distance.”
+
+“I should never have considered the distance as one of the _advantages_
+of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins
+was settled _near_ her family.”
+
+“It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond
+the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”
+
+As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth fancied she
+understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane and
+Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered:
+
+“I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her
+family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many
+varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expenses of
+travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the
+case _here_. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not
+such a one as will allow of frequent journeys--and I am persuaded my
+friend would not call herself _near_ her family under less than _half_
+the present distance.”
+
+Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, “_You_ cannot
+have a right to such very strong local attachment. _You_ cannot have
+been always at Longbourn.”
+
+Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some change of
+feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and
+glancing over it, said, in a colder voice:
+
+“Are you pleased with Kent?”
+
+A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side
+calm and concise--and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte
+and her sister, just returned from her walk. The tete-a-tete surprised
+them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding
+on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying
+much to anybody, went away.
+
+“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 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
+always be within doors; and in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the
+pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it, the
+two cousins found a temptation from this period of walking thither
+almost every day. They called at various times of the morning, sometimes
+separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied by their
+aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam came because he
+had pleasure in their society, a persuasion which of course recommended
+him still more; and Elizabeth was reminded by her own satisfaction in
+being with him, as well as by his evident admiration of her, of her
+former favourite George Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw
+there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners,
+she believed he might have the best informed mind.
+
+But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more difficult
+to understand. It could not be for society, as he frequently sat there
+ten minutes together without opening his lips; and when he did speak,
+it seemed the effect of necessity rather than of choice--a sacrifice
+to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared really
+animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel
+Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was
+generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told
+her; and as she would liked to have believed 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 most pleasant man; he
+certainly admired her, and his situation in life was most eligible; but,
+to counterbalance these advantages, Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage
+in the church, and his cousin could have none at all.
+
+
+
+Chapter 33
+
+
+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 a third. It seemed like
+wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was
+not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away,
+but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He
+never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking
+or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third
+rencontre 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 perusing Jane’s last letter,
+and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in
+spirits, when, instead of being again surprised by Mr. Darcy, she saw
+on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was meeting her. Putting away the
+letter immediately and forcing a smile, she said:
+
+“I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”
+
+“I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally
+do every year, and intend 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
+pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems
+more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”
+
+“He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
+“But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it
+than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak
+feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and
+dependence.”
+
+“In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of
+either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and
+dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going
+wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”
+
+“These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I have
+experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater
+weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where
+they like.”
+
+“Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often
+do.”
+
+“Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many
+in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to
+money.”
+
+“Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and she coloured at the
+idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, “And pray, what
+is the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is
+very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”
+
+He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To interrupt
+a silence which might make him fancy her affected with what had passed,
+she soon afterwards said:
+
+“I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of
+having someone 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 guardians do you make? Does your
+charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a
+little difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she
+may like to have her own way.”
+
+As she spoke she observed him looking at her earnestly; and the manner
+in which he immediately asked her why she supposed Miss Darcy likely to
+give them any uneasiness, convinced her that she had somehow or other
+got pretty near the truth. She directly replied:
+
+“You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare
+say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a
+very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and
+Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”
+
+“I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike man--he
+is a great friend of Darcy’s.”
+
+“Oh! yes,” said Elizabeth drily; “Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr.
+Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”
+
+“Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy _does_ take care of him in
+those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me in
+our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to
+him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose that
+Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”
+
+“What is it you mean?”
+
+“It is a circumstance which Darcy 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 reasons for this interference?”
+
+“I understood that there were some very strong objections against the
+lady.”
+
+“And what arts did he use to separate them?”
+
+“He did not talk to me of his own arts,” said Fitzwilliam, smiling. “He
+only told me what I have now told you.”
+
+Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling with
+indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked her why she
+was so thoughtful.
+
+“I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” said she. “Your
+cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”
+
+“You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”
+
+“I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his
+friend’s inclination, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to
+determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy.
+But,” she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the
+particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed
+that there was much affection in the case.”
+
+“That is not an unnatural surmise,” said Fitzwilliam, “but it is a
+lessening of 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 until 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 Bingley and Jane she had never doubted; but she had
+always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and arrangement
+of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead him, _he_ was
+the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of all that Jane had
+suffered, and still continued to suffer. He had ruined for a while
+every hope of happiness for the most affectionate, generous heart in the
+world; and no one could say how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.
+
+“There were some very strong objections against the lady,” were Colonel
+Fitzwilliam’s words; and those 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 Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, and
+respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she thought of
+her mother, 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 34
+
+
+When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself
+as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the
+examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her
+being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any
+revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering.
+But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that
+cheerfulness which had been used to characterise her style, and which,
+proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly
+disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth
+noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness, with an
+attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s
+shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict, gave her
+a keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation
+to think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the
+next--and, a still greater, that in less than a fortnight she should
+herself be with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of
+her spirits, by all that affection could do.
+
+She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that
+his cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear
+that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not
+mean to be unhappy about him.
+
+While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the
+door-bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its
+being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in
+the evening, and might now come to inquire particularly after her.
+But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently
+affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the
+room. In an hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her
+health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better.
+She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and
+then getting up, walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but
+said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her
+in an agitated manner, and thus began:
+
+“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be
+repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love
+you.”
+
+Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured,
+doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement;
+and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her,
+immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides
+those of the heart to be detailed; and he was not more eloquent on the
+subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority--of
+its being a degradation--of the family obstacles which had always
+opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to
+the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his
+suit.
+
+In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to
+the compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did
+not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to
+receive; till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she
+lost all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to
+answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with
+representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite
+of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with
+expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of
+his hand. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt
+of a favourable answer. He _spoke_ of apprehension and anxiety, but
+his countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could
+only exasperate farther, and, when he ceased, the colour rose into her
+cheeks, and she said:
+
+“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to
+express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however
+unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should
+be felt, and if I could _feel_ gratitude, I would now thank you. But I
+cannot--I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly
+bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to
+anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be
+of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented
+the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in
+overcoming it after this explanation.”
+
+Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantelpiece with his eyes fixed
+on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than
+surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance
+of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the
+appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed
+himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings
+dreadful. At length, with 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 desire
+of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me
+against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?
+Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I _was_ uncivil? But I have
+other provocations. You know I have. Had not my 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, and the other to its derision for
+disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest
+kind.”
+
+She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening
+with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse.
+He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.
+
+“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.
+
+With assumed tranquillity he then replied: “I have no wish of denying
+that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your
+sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards _him_ I have been
+kinder than towards myself.”
+
+Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection,
+but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate her.
+
+“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike
+is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was
+decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received
+many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to
+say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself?
+or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”
+
+“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy,
+in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.
+
+“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an
+interest in him?”
+
+“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy contemptuously; “yes, his misfortunes
+have been great indeed.”
+
+“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth with energy. “You have reduced
+him to his present state of poverty--comparative poverty. You have
+withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for
+him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that independence
+which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this!
+and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune 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 offenses might have been
+overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the
+scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These
+bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater
+policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of
+my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by
+reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence.
+Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and
+just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your
+connections?--to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose
+condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
+
+Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to
+the utmost to speak with composure when she said:
+
+“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your
+declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern
+which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more
+gentlemanlike manner.”
+
+She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued:
+
+“You could not have made 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 the groundwork of
+disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a
+dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the
+last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”
+
+“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your
+feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been.
+Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best
+wishes for your health and happiness.”
+
+And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him
+the next moment open the front door and quit the house.
+
+The tumult of her mind, was now painfully great. She knew not how
+to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for
+half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed,
+was increased by every review of it. That she should receive an offer of
+marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he should have been in love with her for
+so many months! So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of
+all the objections which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying
+her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his
+own case--was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired
+unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his abominable
+pride--his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to
+Jane--his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, though he could
+not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in 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 agitated 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 35
+
+
+Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations
+which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the
+surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of anything
+else; and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved, soon after
+breakfast, to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding
+directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s
+sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park,
+she turned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpike-road. The
+park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one
+of the gates into the ground.
+
+After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was
+tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and
+look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had
+made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the
+verdure of the early trees. She was on the point of continuing her walk,
+when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove which
+edged the park; he was moving that way; and, fearful of its being Mr.
+Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was now
+near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced
+her name. She had turned away; but on hearing herself called, though
+in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again towards the
+gate. He had by that time reached it also, and, holding out a letter,
+which she instinctively took, said, with a look of haughty composure,
+“I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you.
+Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” And then, with a
+slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon out of sight.
+
+With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity,
+Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder,
+perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper, written
+quite through, in a very close hand. The envelope itself was likewise
+full. Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated
+from Rosings, at eight o’clock in the morning, and was as follows:--
+
+“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension
+of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those
+offers which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any
+intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes
+which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the
+effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion,
+should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written
+and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand
+your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I
+demand it of your justice.
+
+“Two offenses 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 the future secured, when the following account of my actions
+and their motives has been read. If, in the explanation of them, which
+is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which
+may be offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry. The necessity
+must be obeyed, and further apology would be absurd.
+
+“I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with
+others, that Bingley preferred your elder sister to any other young
+woman in the country. But it was not till the evening of the dance
+at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious
+attachment. I had often seen him in love before. At that ball, while I
+had the honour of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir
+William Lucas’s accidental information, that Bingley’s attentions to
+your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage.
+He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could
+be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend’s behaviour
+attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss
+Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I also
+watched. Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever,
+but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced
+from the evening’s scrutiny, that though she received his attentions
+with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of
+sentiment. If _you_ have not been mistaken here, _I_ must have been
+in 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 investigation 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
+the utmost force of passion to put aside, in my own case; the want of
+connection could not be so great an evil to my friend as to me. But
+there were other causes of repugnance; causes which, though still
+existing, and existing to an equal degree in both instances, I had
+myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not immediately before
+me. These causes must be stated, though briefly. The situation of your
+mother’s family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to 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 elder sister, than
+it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both. I will only say
+farther that from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties
+was confirmed, and every inducement heightened which could have led
+me before, to preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy
+connection. He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as
+you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning.
+
+“The part which I acted is now to be explained. His sisters’ uneasiness
+had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was
+soon discovered, and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in
+detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in
+London. We accordingly went--and there I readily engaged in the office
+of pointing out to my friend the certain evils of such a choice. I
+described, and enforced them earnestly. But, however this remonstrance
+might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose
+that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been
+seconded by the assurance that I hesitated not in giving, of your
+sister’s indifference. He had before believed her to return his
+affection with sincere, if not with equal regard. But Bingley has great
+natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgement than on his
+own. To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was
+no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into
+Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the
+work of a moment. I cannot blame myself for having done thus much. There
+is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not
+reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the
+measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister’s being in
+town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley; but her
+brother is even yet ignorant of it. That they might have met without
+ill consequence is perhaps probable; but his regard did not appear to me
+enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. Perhaps this
+concealment, this disguise was beneath me; it is done, however, and it
+was done for the best. On this subject I have nothing more to say, no
+other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister’s feelings, it
+was unknowingly done and though the motives which governed me may to
+you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn
+them.
+
+“With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having injured
+Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his
+connection with my family. Of what he has _particularly_ accused me I
+am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more
+than one witness of undoubted veracity.
+
+“Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many
+years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good
+conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to
+be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his
+kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at
+school, and afterwards at Cambridge--most important assistance, as his
+own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have
+been unable to give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only
+fond of this young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging; he
+had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be
+his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is
+many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different
+manner. The vicious propensities--the want of principle, which he was
+careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape
+the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself,
+and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr.
+Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain--to what degree
+you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham
+has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from
+unfolding his real character--it adds even another motive.
+
+“My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to
+Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly
+recommended it to me, to promote his advancement in the best manner
+that his profession might allow--and if he took orders, desired that a
+valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There
+was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father did not long
+survive mine, and within half a year from these events, Mr. Wickham
+wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders,
+he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more
+immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment, by which he
+could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying
+law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would
+be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished, than believed
+him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to
+his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman; the
+business was therefore soon settled--he resigned all claim to assistance
+in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to
+receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection
+between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him
+to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town I believe he chiefly
+lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence, and being now free
+from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation.
+For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the
+incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to
+me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured
+me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He
+had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely
+resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in
+question--of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was
+well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not
+have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will hardly blame
+me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every
+repetition to it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of
+his circumstances--and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me
+to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this period every
+appearance of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I know not. But
+last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice.
+
+“I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself,
+and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold
+to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your
+secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to
+the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself.
+About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed
+for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided
+over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by
+design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him
+and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and
+by her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to Georgiana,
+whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to
+her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and
+to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen, which must be her
+excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add, that I owed
+the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two
+before the intended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support the
+idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as
+a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and
+how I acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented
+any public exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place
+immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr.
+Wickham’s chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which
+is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of
+revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have
+been complete indeed.
+
+“This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have
+been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as
+false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr.
+Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood he
+had 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”
+
+
+
+Chapter 36
+
+
+If 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 well be supposed how eagerly
+she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited.
+Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did
+she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power;
+and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he could have no explanation
+to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong
+prejudice against everything he might say, she began his account of what
+had happened at Netherfield. She read with an eagerness which hardly
+left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the
+next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of
+the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister’s insensibility she
+instantly resolved to be false; and his account of the real, the worst
+objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing
+him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied
+her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and
+insolence.
+
+But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham--when
+she read with somewhat clearer attention a relation of events which,
+if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which
+bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself--her
+feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition.
+Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished
+to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false!
+This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”--and when she had
+gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing anything of the
+last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not
+regard it, that she would never look in it again.
+
+In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on
+nothing, she walked on; but it would not do; in half a minute the letter
+was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she could, she
+again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and
+commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence.
+The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what
+he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, though
+she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his own
+words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to the
+will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living
+was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was
+impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the
+other; and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did
+not err. But when she read and re-read with the closest attention, the
+particulars immediately following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions
+to the living, of his receiving in lieu so considerable a sum as three
+thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down
+the letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be
+impartiality--deliberated on the probability of each statement--but with
+little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read
+on; but every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had
+believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to
+render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a
+turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.
+
+The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay at
+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 himself. As
+to his real character, had information been in her power, she had
+never felt a wish of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had
+established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried
+to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of
+integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of
+Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those
+casual errors under which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy
+had described as the idleness and vice of many years’ continuance. But
+no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before
+her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more
+substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and
+the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. After
+pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more continued to
+read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his designs on Miss
+Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed between Colonel
+Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at last she was
+referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel Fitzwilliam
+himself--from whom she had previously received the information of his
+near concern in all his cousin’s affairs, and whose character she had no
+reason to question. At one time she had almost resolved on applying to
+him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the application, and
+at length wholly banished by the conviction that Mr. Darcy would never
+have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been well assured of his
+cousin’s corroboration.
+
+She perfectly remembered everything that had passed in conversation
+between Wickham and herself, in their first evening at Mr. Phillips’s.
+Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was _now_
+struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and
+wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting
+himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions
+with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear
+of seeing Mr. Darcy--that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that
+_he_ should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball
+the very next week. She remembered also that, till the Netherfield
+family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but
+herself; but that after their removal it had been everywhere discussed;
+that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy’s
+character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would
+always prevent his exposing the son.
+
+How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned!
+His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and
+hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer
+the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything.
+His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive; he had
+either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying
+his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most
+incautiously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter
+and fainter; and in farther 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 Mr. Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of
+everything right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and
+that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man
+as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible.
+
+She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham
+could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced,
+absurd.
+
+“How despicably I have 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 blameable mistrust! 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 be 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 terms of such mortifying, yet merited reproach, her sense
+of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly
+for denial, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded as
+having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first
+disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind
+than on hers.
+
+The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed,
+but it could not console her for the contempt which had thus been
+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--re-considering 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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 37
+
+
+The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning, and Mr. Collins having
+been in waiting near the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was
+able to bring home the pleasing intelligence, of their appearing in very
+good health, and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected, after the
+melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings he then
+hastened, to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return
+brought back, with great satisfaction, a message from her ladyship,
+importing that she felt herself so dull as to make her very desirous of
+having them all to dine with her.
+
+Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that, had
+she chosen it, she might by this time have been presented to her as
+her future niece; nor could she think, without a smile, of what her
+ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how
+would she have behaved?” were 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 no one
+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 by 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 and beg that
+you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your
+company, I am sure.”
+
+“I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied
+Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town
+next Saturday.”
+
+“Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected
+you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There
+can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly
+spare you for another fortnight.”
+
+“But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.”
+
+“Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. Daughters
+are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will stay
+another _month_ complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as
+far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as
+Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good room
+for one of you--and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I
+should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large.”
+
+“You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our
+original plan.”
+
+Lady Catherine seemed resigned. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant
+with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea
+of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper.
+You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in
+the world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly
+guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my
+niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her
+having two men-servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of
+Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with
+propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those
+things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I
+am glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be
+discreditable to _you_ to let them go alone.”
+
+“My uncle is to send a servant for us.”
+
+“Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you
+have somebody who thinks of these things. Where shall you change horses?
+Oh! Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be
+attended to.”
+
+Lady Catherine had many other questions to ask respecting their journey,
+and as she did not answer them all herself, attention was necessary,
+which Elizabeth believed to be lucky for her; or, with a mind so
+occupied, she might have forgotten where she was. Reflection must be
+reserved for solitary hours; whenever she was alone, she gave way to it
+as the greatest relief; and not a day went by without a solitary
+walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant
+recollections.
+
+Mr. Darcy’s letter she was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart. She
+studied every sentence; and her feelings towards its writer were at
+times widely different. When she remembered the style of his address,
+she was still full of indignation; but when she considered how unjustly
+she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against
+herself; and his disappointed feelings became the object of compassion.
+His attachment excited gratitude, his general character respect; but she
+could not approve him; nor could she for a moment repent her refusal,
+or feel the slightest inclination ever to see him again. In her own past
+behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret; and in
+the unhappy defects of her family, a subject of yet heavier chagrin.
+They were hopeless of remedy. Her father, contented with laughing at
+them, would never exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his
+youngest daughters; and her mother, with manners so far from right
+herself, was entirely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had frequently
+united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine
+and Lydia; but while they were supported by their mother’s indulgence,
+what chance could there be of improvement? Catherine, weak-spirited,
+irritable, and completely under Lydia’s guidance, had been always
+affronted by their advice; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would
+scarcely give them a hearing. They were ignorant, idle, and vain. While
+there was an officer in Meryton, they would flirt with him; and while
+Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there
+forever.
+
+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 curtsey and hold out her
+hand to both.
+
+
+
+Chapter 38
+
+
+On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few
+minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of
+paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.
+
+“I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” said he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet
+expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I am very
+certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for
+it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We
+know how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain
+manner of living, our small rooms and few domestics, and the little we
+see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like
+yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension,
+and that we have done everything in our power to prevent your 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 attentions she had received, must make _her_
+feel the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified, and with a more smiling
+solemnity replied:
+
+“It gives me great pleasure to hear that you have passed your time not
+disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most fortunately
+having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society, and,
+from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of varying the
+humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford
+visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to
+Lady Catherine’s family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage
+and blessing which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You
+see how continually we are engaged there. In truth I must acknowledge
+that, with all the disadvantages of this humble parsonage, I should
+not think anyone abiding in it an object of compassion, while they are
+sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”
+
+Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings; and he was
+obliged to walk about the room, while Elizabeth tried to unite civility
+and truth in a few short sentences.
+
+“You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into
+Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself at least that you will
+be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you
+have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear
+that your friend has drawn an unfortunate--but on this point it will be
+as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth,
+that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in
+marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of
+thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of
+character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each
+other.”
+
+Elizabeth could safely say that it was a great happiness where that was
+the case, and with equal sincerity could add, that she firmly believed
+and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. She was not sorry, however, to
+have the recital of them interrupted by the lady from whom they sprang.
+Poor Charlotte! it was melancholy to leave her to such society! But she
+had chosen it with her eyes open; and though evidently regretting that
+her visitors were to go, she did not seem to ask for compassion. Her
+home and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, and all their
+dependent concerns, had not yet lost their charms.
+
+At length the chaise arrived, the trunks were fastened on, the parcels
+placed within, and it was pronounced to be ready. After an affectionate
+parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by
+Mr. Collins, and as they walked down the garden he was commissioning her
+with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks
+for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter, and his
+compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed her
+in, Maria followed, and the door was on the point of being closed,
+when he suddenly reminded them, with some consternation, that they had
+hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies at Rosings.
+
+“But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects
+delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you
+while you have been here.”
+
+Elizabeth made no objection; the door was then allowed to be shut, and
+the carriage drove off.
+
+“Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a few minutes’ silence, “it seems
+but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have
+happened!”
+
+“A great many indeed,” said her companion with a sigh.
+
+“We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice!
+How much I shall have to tell!”
+
+Elizabeth added privately, “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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 39
+
+
+It was the second week in May, in which the three young ladies set out
+together from Gracechurch Street for the town of ----, in Hertfordshire;
+and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet’s carriage
+was to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman’s
+punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room up stairs.
+These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed
+in visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and
+dressing a salad and cucumber.
+
+After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set
+out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming,
+“Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?”
+
+“And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia, “but you must lend us the
+money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then, showing
+her purchases--“Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think
+it is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall
+pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any
+better.”
+
+And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with perfect
+unconcern, “Oh! but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and
+when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I
+think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what
+one wears this summer, after the ----shire have left Meryton, and they
+are going in a fortnight.”
+
+“Are they indeed!” cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.
+
+“They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to
+take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme;
+and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to
+go too of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall
+have!”
+
+“Yes,” thought Elizabeth, “_that_ would be a delightful scheme indeed,
+and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton, and a whole
+campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor
+regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!”
+
+“Now I have got some news for you,” said Lydia, as they sat down at
+table. “What do you think? It is excellent news--capital news--and about
+a certain person we all like!”
+
+Jane and Elizabeth looked at each other, and the waiter was told he need
+not stay. Lydia laughed, and said:
+
+“Aye, 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 it not?
+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 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, work-bags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and
+Lydia’s purchases, were seated in it.
+
+“How nicely we are all crammed in,” cried Lydia. “I am glad I bought my
+bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another bandbox! Well, now
+let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way
+home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all
+since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any
+flirting? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband
+before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare.
+She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord, how ashamed I should be of not
+being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Phillips wants you so to
+get husbands, you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr.
+Collins; but _I_ do not think there would have been any fun in it. Lord!
+how I should like to be married before any of you; and then I would
+chaperon you about to all the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece
+of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s. Kitty and me were to spend
+the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the
+evening; (by the bye, Mrs. Forster and me are _such_ friends!) and so
+she asked the two Harringtons to come, but Harriet was ill, and so Pen
+was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? We
+dressed up Chamberlayne in woman’s clothes on purpose to pass for a
+lady, only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs.
+Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow
+one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny,
+and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they
+did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs.
+Forster. I thought I should have died. And _that_ made the men suspect
+something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.”
+
+With such kinds of histories of their parties and good jokes, did
+Lydia, assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her
+companions all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she
+could, but there was no escaping the frequent mention of Wickham’s name.
+
+Their reception at home was most kind. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane
+in undiminished beauty; and more than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet
+say voluntarily to Elizabeth:
+
+“I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”
+
+Their party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases
+came to meet Maria and hear the news; and various were the subjects that
+occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, 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
+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 I drew up the blinds, and pretended there
+was nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the way, if Kitty
+had not been sick; and when we got to the George, I do think we behaved
+very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest cold
+luncheon in the world, and if you would have gone, we would have treated
+you too. And then when we came away it was such fun! I thought we never
+should have got into the coach. I was ready to die of laughter. And then
+we were so merry all the way home! we talked and laughed so loud, that
+anybody might have heard us ten miles off!”
+
+To this Mary very gravely replied, “Far be it from me, my dear sister,
+to depreciate such pleasures! They would doubtless be congenial with the
+generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for
+_me_--I should infinitely prefer a book.”
+
+But of this answer Lydia heard not a word. She seldom listened to
+anybody for more than half a minute, and never attended to Mary at all.
+
+In the afternoon Lydia was urgent with the rest of the girls to walk
+to Meryton, and to see how everybody went on; but Elizabeth steadily
+opposed the scheme. It should not be said that the Miss Bennets could
+not be at home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers.
+There was another reason too for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Mr.
+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.
+
+
+
+Chapter 40
+
+
+Elizabeth’s impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could
+no longer be overcome; and at length, resolving to suppress every
+particular in which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be
+surprised, she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene
+between Mr. Darcy and herself.
+
+Miss Bennet’s astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterly
+partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectly
+natural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She was
+sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so
+little suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for the
+unhappiness which her sister’s refusal must have given him.
+
+“His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” said she, “and certainly
+ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his
+disappointment!”
+
+“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has
+other feelings, which will probably soon drive away his regard for me.
+You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”
+
+“Blame you! Oh, no.”
+
+“But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?”
+
+“No--I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”
+
+“But you _will_ know it, when I tell 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 the 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 Darcy’s;
+but you shall do as you choose.”
+
+It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.
+
+“I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. “Wickham so
+very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only
+consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and with the
+knowledge of your ill opinion, too! and having to relate such a thing
+of his sister! It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it
+so.”
+
+“Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so
+full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am
+growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion
+makes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will
+be as light as a feather.”
+
+“Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his
+countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!”
+
+“There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those
+two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the
+appearance of it.”
+
+“I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the _appearance_ of it as you
+used to do.”
+
+“And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike
+to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an
+opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually
+abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot always be 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 may say unhappy. And
+with no one to speak to about what I felt, no Jane to comfort me and say
+that I had not been so very weak and vain and nonsensical as I knew I
+had! Oh! how I wanted you!”
+
+“How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions
+in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they _do_ appear wholly
+undeserved.”
+
+“Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most
+natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There
+is one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I
+ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintances 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 opinion?”
+
+“That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorised me
+to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular
+relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to
+myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his
+conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy
+is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in
+Meryton to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal
+to it. Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to
+anyone here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all found out,
+and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before. At
+present I will say nothing about it.”
+
+“You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for
+ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to
+re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”
+
+The tumult of Elizabeth’s mind was allayed by this conversation. She had
+got rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a fortnight,
+and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she might wish
+to talk again of either. But there was still something lurking behind,
+of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not relate the other
+half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor explain to her sister how sincerely she
+had been valued by her 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 most first
+attachments often boast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance,
+and prefer him to every other man, that all her good sense, and all her
+attention to the feelings of her friends, were requisite to check the
+indulgence of those regrets which must have been injurious to her own
+health and their tranquillity.
+
+“Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet one day, “what is your opinion _now_ of
+this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak
+of it again to anybody. I told my sister Phillips so the other day. But
+I cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well, he is
+a very undeserving young man--and I do not suppose there’s 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.”
+
+“I do not believe 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 he used my daughter extremely ill; and if I was her, I
+would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure Jane will
+die of a broken heart; and then he will be sorry for what he has done.”
+
+But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation,
+she made no answer.
+
+“Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother, soon afterwards, “and so the
+Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope
+it will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an
+excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her
+mother, she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in _their_
+housekeeping, I dare say.”
+
+“No, nothing at all.”
+
+“A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes, _they_ will
+take care not to outrun their income. _They_ will never be distressed
+for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often
+talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it as
+quite 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.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 41
+
+
+The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was
+the last of the regiment’s stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies
+in the neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almost
+universal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink,
+and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Very
+frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and
+Lydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such
+hard-heartedness in any of the family.
+
+“Good Heaven! what is to become of us? What are we to do?” would they
+often exclaim in the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so,
+Lizzy?”
+
+Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered what
+she had herself endured on a similar occasion, five-and-twenty years
+ago.
+
+“I am sure,” said she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel
+Miller’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broken 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 forever.”
+
+“And my aunt Phillips is sure it would do _me_ a great deal of good,”
+ added Kitty.
+
+Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through
+Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all sense
+of pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s
+objections; and never had she been so much disposed to pardon his
+interference in the views of his friend.
+
+But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she
+received an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the colonel of
+the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was a
+very young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humour
+and good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out of
+their _three_ months’ acquaintance they had been intimate _two_.
+
+The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster,
+the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely
+to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s feelings, Lydia
+flew about the house in restless ecstasy, calling for everyone’s
+congratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever;
+whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repined at her fate
+in terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.
+
+“I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask _me_ as well as Lydia,”
+ said she, “Though I am _not_ her particular friend. I have just as much
+right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”
+
+In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane to make
+her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far from
+exciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that she
+considered it as the death warrant of all possibility of common sense
+for the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her were it
+known, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let her
+go. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia’s general
+behaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship of
+such a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet more
+imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations must
+be greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said:
+
+“Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public
+place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so
+little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present
+circumstances.”
+
+“If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, “of the very great disadvantage to
+us all which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and
+imprudent manner--nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you
+would judge differently in the affair.”
+
+“Already arisen?” repeated Mr. Bennet. “What, has she frightened away
+some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such
+squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity
+are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of pitiful fellows who
+have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.”
+
+“Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not
+of particular, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our
+importance, our respectability in the world must be affected by the
+wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark
+Lydia’s character. Excuse me, for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear
+father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and
+of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of
+her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character
+will be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt
+that ever made herself or her family ridiculous; a flirt, too, in the
+worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond
+youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and emptiness
+of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal
+contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger
+Kitty also is comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain,
+ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh! my dear father, can you
+suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever
+they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the
+disgrace?”
+
+Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject, and
+affectionately taking her hand said in reply:
+
+“Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known
+you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less
+advantage for having a couple of--or I may say, three--very silly
+sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to
+Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will
+keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an
+object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance
+even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find
+women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being
+there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow
+many degrees worse, without authorising us to lock her up for the rest
+of her life.”
+
+With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinion
+continued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was not
+in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on
+them. She was confident of having performed her duty, and to fret
+over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her
+disposition.
+
+Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her
+father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their
+united volubility. In Lydia’s imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised
+every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye
+of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers.
+She saw herself the object of attention, to tens and to scores of them
+at present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp--its tents
+stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young
+and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to complete the view, she
+saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six
+officers at once.
+
+Had she known her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and such
+realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They could have
+been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly the same.
+Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for her melancholy
+conviction of her husband’s never intending to go there himself.
+
+But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their raptures
+continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving
+home.
+
+Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having been
+frequently in company with him since her return, agitation was pretty
+well over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had even
+learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted
+her, an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his present
+behaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure,
+for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those intentions which
+had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after
+what had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him in
+finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous
+gallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel the
+reproof contained in his believing, that however long, and for whatever
+cause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratified,
+and her preference secured at any time by their renewal.
+
+On the very last day of the regiment’s remaining at Meryton, he dined,
+with other of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth
+disposed to part from him in good humour, that on his making some
+inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she
+mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having both spent three
+weeks at Rosings, and asked him, if he was acquainted with the former.
+
+He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but with a moment’s
+recollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seen
+him often; and, after observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man,
+asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in his favour.
+With an air of indifference he soon afterwards added:
+
+“How long did you say he was at Rosings?”
+
+“Nearly three weeks.”
+
+“And you saw him frequently?”
+
+“Yes, almost every day.”
+
+“His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”
+
+“Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance.”
+
+“Indeed!” cried Mr. Wickham with a look which did not escape her. “And
+pray, may I ask?--” But checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is
+it in address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility
+to his ordinary style?--for I dare not hope,” he continued in a lower
+and more serious tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”
+
+“Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much
+what he ever was.”
+
+While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to
+rejoice over her words, or to distrust their meaning. There was a
+something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive
+and anxious attention, while she added:
+
+“When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that
+his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but that, from
+knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”
+
+Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated
+look; for a few minutes he was silent, till, shaking off his
+embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of
+accents:
+
+“You, who so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy, will readily
+comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume
+even the _appearance_ of what is right. His pride, in that direction,
+may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must only
+deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only
+fear that the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been
+alluding, is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good
+opinion and judgement he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always
+operated, I know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be
+imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I
+am certain he has very much at heart.”
+
+Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a
+slight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her on
+the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge
+him. The rest of the evening passed with the _appearance_, on his
+side, of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish
+Elizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a
+mutual desire of never meeting again.
+
+When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton,
+from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation
+between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the
+only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs.
+Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter,
+and impressive in her injunctions that she should not miss the
+opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible--advice which
+there was every reason to believe would be well attended to; and in
+the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more
+gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered without being heard.
+
+
+
+Chapter 42
+
+
+Had Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could
+not have formed a very pleasing opinion of conjugal felicity or domestic
+comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance
+of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a
+woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in
+their marriage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect,
+esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views
+of domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of
+a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own
+imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often
+console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of
+the country and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal
+enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted, than as
+her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not
+the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his
+wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true
+philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.
+
+Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her
+father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but
+respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of
+herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to
+banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation
+and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own
+children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so
+strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so
+unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising
+from so ill-judged a direction of talents; talents, which, rightly used,
+might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even
+if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.
+
+When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure she found little
+other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties
+abroad were less varied than before, and at home she had a mother and
+sister whose constant repinings at the dullness of everything around
+them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty
+might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers
+of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition
+greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all
+her folly and assurance by a situation of such double danger as a
+watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what
+has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had been
+looking with impatient desire did not, in taking place, bring all the
+satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to
+name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity--to have
+some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by
+again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the
+present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes
+was now the object of her happiest thoughts; it was her best consolation
+for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother
+and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the
+scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.
+
+“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for.
+Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain.
+But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my
+sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of
+pleasure realised. A scheme of which every part promises delight can
+never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by
+the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”
+
+When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and very minutely
+to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and
+always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that
+they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers
+had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as
+made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which
+she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a
+violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going off to
+the camp; and from her correspondence with her sister, there was still
+less to be learnt--for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were
+much too full of lines under the words to be made public.
+
+After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, good
+humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything wore
+a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter came
+back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. Bennet
+was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and, by the middle of
+June, Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton without
+tears; an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that by
+the following Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable as not to
+mention an officer above once a day, unless, by some cruel and malicious
+arrangement at the War Office, another regiment should be quartered in
+Meryton.
+
+The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast
+approaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter
+arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and
+curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from
+setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again
+within a month, and as that left too short a period for them to go so
+far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with
+the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up
+the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour, and, according to the
+present plan, were to go no farther northwards than Derbyshire. In that
+county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three
+weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The
+town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where
+they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of
+her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth,
+Dovedale, or the Peak.
+
+Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing
+the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time enough. But it
+was her business to be satisfied--and certainly her temper to be happy;
+and all was soon right again.
+
+With the mention of Derbyshire there were many ideas connected. It was
+impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its
+owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity,
+and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me.”
+
+The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away
+before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr.
+and Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at
+Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two
+younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their
+cousin Jane, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and
+sweetness of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every
+way--teaching them, playing with them, and loving them.
+
+The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the
+next morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement.
+One enjoyment was certain--that of suitableness of companions;
+a suitableness which comprehended health and temper to bear
+inconveniences--cheerfulness to enhance every pleasure--and affection
+and intelligence, which might supply it among themselves if there were
+disappointments abroad.
+
+It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire,
+nor of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither
+lay; Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc. are
+sufficiently known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present
+concern. To the little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s
+former residence, and where she had lately learned some acquaintance
+still remained, they bent their steps, after having seen all the
+principal wonders of the country; and within five miles of Lambton,
+Elizabeth found from her aunt that Pemberley was situated. It was not
+in their direct road, nor more than a mile or two out of it. In
+talking over their route the evening before, Mrs. Gardiner expressed
+an inclination to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner declared his
+willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her approbation.
+
+“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard
+so much?” said her aunt; “a place, too, with which so many of your
+acquaintances are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you
+know.”
+
+Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at
+Pemberley, and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She
+must own that she was tired of seeing great houses; after going over so
+many, she really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house
+richly furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but
+the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the
+country.”
+
+Elizabeth said no more--but her mind could not acquiesce. The
+possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly
+occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea, and
+thought it would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such
+a risk. But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved
+that it could be the last resource, if her private inquiries to the
+absence of the family were unfavourably answered.
+
+Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid
+whether Pemberley were not a very fine place? what was the name of its
+proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for
+the summer? A most welcome negative followed the last question--and her
+alarms now being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of
+curiosity to see the house herself; and when the subject was revived the
+next morning, and she was again applied to, could readily answer, and
+with a proper air of indifference, that she had not really any dislike
+to the scheme. To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.
+
+
+
+Chapter 43
+
+
+Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of
+Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned
+in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.
+
+The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They
+entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through
+a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.
+
+Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired
+every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for
+half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable
+eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by
+Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which
+the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone
+building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of
+high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance was
+swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks
+were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She
+had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural
+beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were
+all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that
+to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!
+
+They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and,
+while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehension of
+meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been
+mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the
+hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to
+wonder at her being where she was.
+
+The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking elderly woman, much less
+fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They
+followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well proportioned
+room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went
+to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which
+they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance,
+was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good; and
+she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered on its
+banks and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it,
+with delight. As they passed into other rooms these objects were taking
+different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be
+seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to
+the fortune of its proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of
+his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of
+splendour, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings.
+
+“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With
+these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted! Instead of
+viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and
+welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But no,”--recollecting
+herself--“that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to
+me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.”
+
+This was a lucky recollection--it saved her from something very like
+regret.
+
+She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether her master was really
+absent, but had not the courage for it. At length however, the question
+was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs.
+Reynolds replied that he was, adding, “But we expect him to-morrow, with
+a large party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own
+journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!
+
+Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached and saw the
+likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst several other miniatures,
+over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it.
+The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was a picture of a young
+gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who had been brought
+up by him at his own expense. “He is now gone into the army,” she added;
+“but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”
+
+Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not
+return it.
+
+“And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures,
+“is my master--and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the
+other--about eight years ago.”
+
+“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner,
+looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell
+us whether it is like or not.”
+
+Mrs. Reynolds respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this
+intimation of her knowing her master.
+
+“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”
+
+Elizabeth coloured, and said: “A little.”
+
+“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”
+
+“Yes, very handsome.”
+
+“I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery up stairs you
+will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late
+master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to
+be then. He was very fond of them.”
+
+This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them.
+
+Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn
+when she was only eight years old.
+
+“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mrs. Gardiner.
+
+“Oh! yes--the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so
+accomplished!--She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is
+a new instrument just come down for her--a present from my master; she
+comes here to-morrow with him.”
+
+Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her
+communicativeness by his questions and remarks; Mrs. Reynolds, either
+by pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her
+master and his sister.
+
+“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”
+
+“Not so much as I could wish, sir; but I dare say he may spend half his
+time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”
+
+“Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”
+
+“If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”
+
+“Yes, sir; but I do not know when _that_ will be. I do not know who is
+good enough for him.”
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is
+very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”
+
+“I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him,”
+ replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she
+listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, “I have
+never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever
+since he was four years old.”
+
+This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her
+ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion.
+Her keenest attention was awakened; she longed to hear more, and was
+grateful to her uncle for saying:
+
+“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in
+having such a master.”
+
+“Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could
+not meet with a better. But I have always observed, that they who are
+good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and
+he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the
+world.”
+
+Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.
+
+“His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
+
+“Yes, ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him--just
+as affable to the poor.”
+
+Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs.
+Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subjects
+of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the
+furniture, in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family
+prejudice to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her
+master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his
+many merits as they proceeded together up the great staircase.
+
+“He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever
+lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but
+themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give
+him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw
+anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away
+like other young men.”
+
+“In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.
+
+“This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt as they walked, “is not
+quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”
+
+“Perhaps we might be deceived.”
+
+“That is not very likely; our authority was too good.”
+
+On reaching the spacious lobby above they were shown into a very pretty
+sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than
+the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to
+give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room when
+last at Pemberley.
+
+“He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards
+one of the windows.
+
+Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight, when she should enter
+the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. “Whatever
+can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There
+is nothing he would not do for her.”
+
+The picture-gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were
+all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good paintings;
+but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already
+visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss
+Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and
+also more intelligible.
+
+In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have
+little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked in quest of
+the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested
+her--and she beheld a striking resemblance to Mr. Darcy, with such a
+smile over the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen when he
+looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture, in earnest
+contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery.
+Mrs. Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father’s
+lifetime.
+
+There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth’s mind, a more gentle
+sensation towards the original than she had ever felt at the height of
+their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds
+was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise
+of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she
+considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship!--how
+much of pleasure or pain was it in his power to bestow!--how much of
+good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought
+forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she
+stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed his
+eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of
+gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and
+softened its impropriety of expression.
+
+When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen,
+they returned downstairs, and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were
+consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall-door.
+
+As they walked across the hall towards the river, Elizabeth turned back
+to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former
+was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself
+suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.
+
+They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his
+appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes
+instantly met, and the cheeks of both were overspread with the deepest
+blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immovable from
+surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party,
+and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least
+of perfect civility.
+
+She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach,
+received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be
+overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture
+they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two
+that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of surprise, on
+beholding his master, must immediately have told it. They stood a little
+aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused,
+scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer
+she returned to his civil inquiries after her family. Amazed at the
+alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that
+he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the
+impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few
+minutes in which they continued were some of the most uncomfortable in
+her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he spoke, his accent
+had none of its usual sedateness; and he repeated his inquiries as
+to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her having stayed in
+Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke the
+distraction of his thoughts.
+
+At length every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a few
+moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took
+leave.
+
+The others then joined her, and expressed admiration of his figure; but
+Elizabeth heard not a word, and wholly engrossed by her own feelings,
+followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame and vexation. Her
+coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the
+world! How strange it must appear to him! In what a disgraceful light
+might it not strike so vain a man! It might seem as if she had purposely
+thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come? Or, why did he
+thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been only ten minutes
+sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his discrimination;
+for it was plain that he was that moment arrived--that moment alighted
+from his horse or his carriage. She blushed again and again over
+the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so strikingly
+altered--what could it mean? That he should even speak to her was
+amazing!--but to speak with such civility, to inquire after her family!
+Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, never
+had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. What
+a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when he put
+his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, or how to account
+for it.
+
+They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and
+every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground, or a finer
+reach of the woods to which they were approaching; but it was some time
+before Elizabeth was sensible of any of it; and, though she answered
+mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and
+seemed to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she
+distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that
+one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then
+was. She longed to know what at the moment was passing in his mind--in
+what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of everything,
+she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil only because he
+felt himself at ease; yet there had been _that_ in his voice which was
+not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in
+seeing her she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with
+composure.
+
+At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind
+aroused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself.
+
+They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a while,
+ascended some of the higher grounds; when, in spots where the opening of
+the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of the
+valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods overspreading
+many, and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish
+of going round the whole park, but feared it might be beyond a walk.
+With a triumphant smile they were told that it was ten miles round.
+It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed circuit; which
+brought them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods,
+to the edge of the water, and one of its narrowest parts. They crossed
+it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of the scene;
+it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and the
+valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the stream,
+and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood which bordered it.
+Elizabeth longed to explore its windings; but when they had crossed the
+bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner,
+who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only
+of returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was,
+therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house
+on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their
+progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the
+taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the
+occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the
+man about them, that he advanced but little. Whilst wandering on in this
+slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment
+was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy
+approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here
+less sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before
+they met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared
+for an interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with
+calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a few moments, indeed,
+she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. The idea
+lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the
+turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance, she saw
+that he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his
+politeness, she began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place;
+but she had not got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when
+some unlucky recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of
+Pemberley from her might be mischievously construed. Her colour changed,
+and she said no more.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked
+her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends.
+This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared;
+and she could hardly suppress a smile at his being now seeking the
+acquaintance of some of those very people against whom his pride had
+revolted in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought
+she, “when he knows who they are? He takes them now for people of
+fashion.”
+
+The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their
+relationship to herself, she stole a sly look at him, to see how he bore
+it, and was not without the expectation of his decamping as fast as he
+could from such disgraceful companions. That he was _surprised_ by the
+connection was evident; he sustained it, however, with fortitude, and
+so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into
+conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased,
+could not but triumph. It was consoling that he should know she had
+some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most
+attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every
+expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence,
+his taste, or his good manners.
+
+The conversation soon turned upon fishing; and she heard Mr. Darcy
+invite him, with the greatest civility, to fish there as often as he
+chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same time
+to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of
+the stream where there was usually most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was
+walking arm-in-arm with Elizabeth, gave her a look expressive of wonder.
+Elizabeth said nothing, but it gratified her exceedingly; the compliment
+must be all for herself. Her astonishment, however, was extreme, and
+continually was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From what can
+it proceed? It cannot be for _me_--it cannot be for _my_ sake that his
+manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a
+change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me.”
+
+After walking some time in this way, the two ladies in front, the two
+gentlemen behind, on resuming their places, after descending to
+the brink of the river for the better inspection of some curious
+water-plant, there chanced to be a little alteration. It originated
+in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found
+Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred
+her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on
+together. After a short silence, the lady first spoke. She wished him
+to know that she had been assured of his absence before she came to the
+place, and accordingly began by observing, that his arrival had been
+very unexpected--“for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that
+you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and indeed, before we
+left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected
+in the country.” He acknowledged the truth of it all, and said that
+business with his steward had occasioned his coming forward a few hours
+before the rest of the party with whom he had been travelling. “They
+will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some
+who will claim an acquaintance with you--Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”
+
+Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. Her thoughts were instantly
+driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley’s name had been the last
+mentioned between them; and, if she might judge by his complexion, _his_
+mind was not very differently engaged.
+
+“There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a
+pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow
+me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance
+during your stay at Lambton?”
+
+The surprise of such an application was great indeed; it was too great
+for her to know in what manner she acceded to it. She immediately felt
+that whatever desire Miss Darcy might have of being acquainted with her
+must be the work of her brother, and, without looking farther, it was
+satisfactory; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made
+him think really ill of her.
+
+They now walked on in silence, each of them deep in thought. Elizabeth
+was not comfortable; that was impossible; but she was flattered and
+pleased. His wish of introducing his sister to her was a compliment of
+the highest kind. They soon outstripped the others, and when they had
+reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a
+mile behind.
+
+He then asked her to walk into the house--but she declared herself not
+tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time much might
+have been said, and silence was very awkward. She wanted to talk, but
+there seemed to be an embargo on every subject. At last she recollected
+that she had been travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dove Dale
+with great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly--and her
+patience and her ideas were nearly worn out before the tete-a-tete was
+over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up they were all pressed to go
+into the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and
+they parted on each side with utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the
+ladies into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him
+walking slowly towards the house.
+
+The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them
+pronounced him to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected.
+“He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle.
+
+“There _is_ something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her
+aunt, “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now
+say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, I
+have seen nothing of it.”
+
+“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more
+than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such
+attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”
+
+“To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham;
+or, rather, he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features
+are perfectly good. But how came you to tell me that he was so
+disagreeable?”
+
+Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could; said that she had liked
+him better when they had met in Kent than before, and that she had never
+seen him so pleasant as this morning.
+
+“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied
+her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him
+at his word, as he might change his mind another day, and warn me off
+his grounds.”
+
+Elizabeth felt that they had entirely misunderstood his character, but
+said nothing.
+
+“From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really
+should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by
+anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look.
+On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he
+speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance that would
+not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the
+good lady who showed us his house did give him a most flaming character!
+I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal
+master, I suppose, and _that_ in the eye of a servant comprehends every
+virtue.”
+
+Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of
+his behaviour to Wickham; and therefore gave them to understand, in
+as guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from
+his relations in Kent, his actions were capable of a very different
+construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor
+Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In
+confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary
+transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming
+her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned; but as they were now
+approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to
+the charm of recollection; and she was too much engaged in pointing out
+to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs to think of
+anything else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk they
+had no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former
+acquaintance, and the evening was spent in the satisfactions of a
+intercourse renewed after many years’ discontinuance.
+
+The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth
+much attention for any of these new friends; and she could do nothing
+but think, and think with wonder, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above
+all, of his wishing her to be acquainted with his sister.
+
+
+
+Chapter 44
+
+
+Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would bring his sister to visit
+her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was consequently
+resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole of that morning.
+But her conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their
+arrival at Lambton, these visitors came. They had been walking about the
+place with some of their new friends, and were just returning to the inn
+to dress themselves for dining with the same family, when the sound of a
+carriage drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and a lady in
+a curricle driving up the street. Elizabeth immediately recognizing
+the livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of her
+surprise to her relations by acquainting them with the honour which she
+expected. Her uncle and aunt were all amazement; and the embarrassment
+of her manner as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many
+of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on
+the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they felt that
+there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such a
+quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these
+newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of
+Elizabeth’s feelings was at every moment increasing. She was quite
+amazed at her own discomposure; but amongst other causes of disquiet,
+she dreaded lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much
+in her favour; and, more than commonly anxious to please, she naturally
+suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her.
+
+She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked
+up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of
+inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse.
+
+Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction
+took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new
+acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her
+being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud;
+but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was
+only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from
+her beyond a monosyllable.
+
+Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger scale than Elizabeth; and, though
+little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance
+womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother; but there
+was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly
+unassuming and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find in her as
+acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was much
+relieved by discerning such different feelings.
+
+They had not long been together before Mr. Darcy told her that Bingley
+was also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time to express her
+satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s quick
+step was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. All
+Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but had she still
+felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected
+cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He
+inquired in a friendly, though general way, after her family, and looked
+and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.
+
+To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage
+than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before
+them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just
+arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece directed their observation towards
+each with an earnest though guarded inquiry; and they soon drew from
+those inquiries the full conviction that one of them at least knew
+what it was to love. Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little
+in doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was
+evident enough.
+
+Elizabeth, on her side, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the
+feelings of each of her visitors; she wanted to compose her own, and
+to make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, where she
+feared most to fail, she was most sure of success, for those to whom she
+endeavoured to give pleasure were prepossessed in her favour. Bingley
+was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy determined, to be pleased.
+
+In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and, oh!
+how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were directed in
+a like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on
+former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion
+that, as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But,
+though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his
+behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane. No look
+appeared on either side that spoke particular regard. Nothing occurred
+between them that could justify the hopes of his sister. On this point
+she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances occurred
+ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted a
+recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of saying
+more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared. He observed
+to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and in a tone
+which had something of real regret, that it “was a very long time since
+he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could reply,
+he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of
+November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”
+
+Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards
+took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether
+_all_ her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question,
+nor in the preceding remark; but there was a look and a manner which
+gave them meaning.
+
+It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself;
+but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general
+complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an accent so removed
+from _hauteur_ or disdain of his companions, as convinced her that
+the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed however
+temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When
+she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion
+of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a
+disgrace--when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the
+very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last
+lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage--the difference, the change was
+so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly
+restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the company
+of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations
+at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from
+self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance
+could result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the
+acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed would draw
+down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and
+Rosings.
+
+Their visitors stayed with them above half-an-hour; and when they arose
+to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing
+their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner
+at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a
+diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations,
+readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing
+how _she_, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its
+acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming however,
+that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than
+any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of
+society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for
+her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.
+
+Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth
+again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to
+make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all
+this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased, and on
+this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their
+visitors left them, capable of considering the last half-hour with some
+satisfaction, though while it was passing, the enjoyment of it had been
+little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her
+uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their
+favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress.
+
+But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was
+not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was
+much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of;
+it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to
+interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.
+
+Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far
+as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could
+not be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn his character
+from their own feelings and his servant’s report, without any reference
+to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known
+would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an interest,
+however, in believing the housekeeper; and they soon became sensible
+that the authority of a servant who had known him since he was four
+years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be
+hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in the intelligence of
+their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had
+nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride he probably had, and if not,
+it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market-town
+where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he
+was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.
+
+With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was not held
+there in much estimation; for though the chief of his concerns with the
+son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was yet a well-known
+fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind
+him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged.
+
+As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than
+the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not
+long enough to determine her feelings towards _one_ in that mansion;
+and she lay awake two whole hours endeavouring to make them out. She
+certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she
+had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him,
+that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his
+valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some
+time ceased to be repugnant to her feeling; and it was now heightened
+into somewhat of a friendlier nature, by the testimony so highly in
+his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light,
+which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem,
+there was a motive within her of goodwill which could not be overlooked.
+It was gratitude; gratitude, not merely for having once loved her,
+but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and
+acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations
+accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid
+her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most
+eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate display
+of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only
+were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent
+on making her known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much
+pride exciting not only astonishment but gratitude--for to love, ardent
+love, it must be attributed; and as such its impression on her was of a
+sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not be
+exactly defined. She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him,
+she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how
+far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would
+be for the happiness of both that she should employ the power, which her
+fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on her the renewal of
+his addresses.
+
+It had been settled in the evening between the aunt and the niece, that
+such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s in coming to see them on the
+very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she had reached it only to a
+late breakfast, ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled,
+by some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that
+it would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following
+morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though when
+she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply.
+
+Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been
+renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting
+some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before noon.
+
+
+
+Chapter 45
+
+
+Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had
+originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how unwelcome her
+appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how
+much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now be renewed.
+
+On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon,
+whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows
+opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody
+hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts
+which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.
+
+In this house they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there
+with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in
+London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with
+all the embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear
+of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior
+the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her niece,
+however, did her justice, and pitied her.
+
+By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a curtsey; and,
+on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be,
+succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a
+genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind
+of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the
+others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from
+Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she
+wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a
+short sentence when there was least danger of its being heard.
+
+Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley,
+and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without
+calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her
+from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an
+inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity
+of saying much. Her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every
+moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she
+feared that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether
+she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After
+sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without hearing Miss
+Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold
+inquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal
+indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.
+
+The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the
+entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the
+finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many
+a significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been
+given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole
+party--for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the
+beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches soon collected
+them round the table.
+
+While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether
+she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr. Darcy, by the
+feelings which prevailed on his entering the room; and then, though but
+a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to
+regret that he came.
+
+He had been some time with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three other
+gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, and had left him
+only on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to
+Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely
+resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed; a resolution the more
+necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she
+saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them,
+and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour
+when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive
+curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the
+smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its
+objects; for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions
+to Mr. Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s
+entrance, exerted herself much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he
+was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded
+as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss
+Bingley saw all this likewise; and, in the imprudence of anger, took the
+first opportunity of saying, with sneering civility:
+
+“Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ----shire Militia removed from Meryton?
+They must be a great loss to _your_ family.”
+
+In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name; but Elizabeth
+instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts; and the
+various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress;
+but exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she
+presently answered the question in a tolerably detached tone. While
+she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy, with a heightened
+complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with
+confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what
+pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would
+have refrained from the hint; but she had merely intended to discompose
+Elizabeth by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed
+her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in
+Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies
+and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected
+with that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s
+meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy
+was possible, except to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley’s connections
+her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from the very
+wish which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming
+hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan, and without
+meaning that it should affect his endeavour to separate him from Miss
+Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern
+for the welfare of his friend.
+
+Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion; and
+as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to
+Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able
+to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely
+recollected her interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which
+had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to have
+fixed them on her more and more cheerfully.
+
+Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above
+mentioned; and while Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage Miss
+Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth’s person,
+behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her brother’s
+recommendation was enough to ensure her favour; his judgement could not
+err. And he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana
+without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable. When
+Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley could not help repeating to
+him some part of what she had been saying to his sister.
+
+“How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she
+cried; “I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since
+the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing
+that we should not have known her again.”
+
+However little Mr. Darcy might have liked such an address, he contented
+himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than
+her being rather tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in the
+summer.
+
+“For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could
+see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no
+brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose
+wants character--there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are
+tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes,
+which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything
+extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do
+not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency
+without fashion, which is intolerable.”
+
+Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not
+the best method of recommending herself; but angry people are not always
+wise; and in seeing him at last look somewhat nettled, she had all the
+success she expected. He was resolutely silent, however, and, from a
+determination of making him speak, she continued:
+
+“I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all
+were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect
+your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘_She_
+a beauty!--I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she
+seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at
+one time.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Darcy, who could contain himself no longer, “but _that_
+was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have
+considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”
+
+He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all the satisfaction of
+having forced him to say what gave no one any pain but herself.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred during their
+visit, as they returned, except what had particularly interested them
+both. The look and behaviour of everybody they had seen were discussed,
+except of the person who had mostly engaged their attention. They talked
+of his sister, his friends, his house, his fruit--of everything but
+himself; yet Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner thought of
+him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been highly gratified by her niece’s
+beginning the subject.
+
+
+
+Chapter 46
+
+
+Elizabeth had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from
+Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been
+renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but
+on the third her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the
+receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which was marked that
+it had been missent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as
+Jane had written the direction remarkably ill.
+
+They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and
+her uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by
+themselves. The one missent must first be attended to; it had been
+written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their
+little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded;
+but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident
+agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:
+
+“Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a
+most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you--be
+assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia.
+An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed,
+from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland
+with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our
+surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am
+very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing
+to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood.
+Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step
+(and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is
+disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing.
+Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How
+thankful am I that we never let them know what has been said against
+him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about
+twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at
+eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have
+passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect
+him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of
+their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor
+mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly
+know what I have written.”
+
+Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing
+what she felt, Elizabeth on finishing this letter instantly seized the
+other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows: it
+had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first.
+
+“By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I
+wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my
+head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest
+Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you,
+and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as the marriage between Mr. Wickham
+and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has
+taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone
+to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the
+day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia’s short
+letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna
+Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W.
+never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was
+repeated to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B.
+intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham,
+but no further; for on entering that place, they removed into a hackney
+coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. All that
+is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the London road.
+I know not what to think. After making every possible inquiry on that
+side London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing
+them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but
+without any success--no such people had been seen to pass through. With
+the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions
+to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely grieved
+for him and Mrs. F., but no one can throw any blame on them. Our
+distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and mother believe the
+worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many circumstances might make
+it more eligible for them to be married privately in town than to pursue
+their first plan; and even if _he_ could form such a design against a
+young woman of Lydia’s connections, which is not likely, can I suppose
+her so lost to everything? Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that
+Colonel F. is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; he shook his
+head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to
+be trusted. My poor mother is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she
+exert herself, it would be better; but this is not to be expected. And
+as to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has
+anger for having concealed their attachment; but as it was a matter of
+confidence, one cannot wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you
+have been spared something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the
+first shock is over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not
+so selfish, however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I
+take up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would not; but
+circumstances are such that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to
+come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well,
+that I am not afraid of requesting it, though I have still something
+more to ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel
+Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do I am sure
+I know not; but his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any
+measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to
+be at Brighton again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence, my
+uncle’s advice and assistance would be everything in the world; he will
+immediately comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.”
+
+“Oh! where, where is my uncle?” cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat
+as she finished the letter, in eagerness to follow him, without losing
+a moment of the time so precious; but as she reached the door it was
+opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and impetuous
+manner made him start, and before he could recover himself to speak,
+she, in whose mind every idea was superseded by Lydia’s situation,
+hastily exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find
+Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not
+an instant to lose.”
+
+“Good God! what is the matter?” cried he, with more feeling than
+politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain you a minute;
+but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are
+not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”
+
+Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled under her and she felt how
+little would be gained by her attempting to pursue them. Calling back
+the servant, therefore, she commissioned him, though in so breathless
+an accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and
+mistress home instantly.
+
+On his quitting the room she sat down, unable to support herself, and
+looking so miserably ill, that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her,
+or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration,
+“Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you
+present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”
+
+“No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to recover herself. “There
+is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am only distressed by
+some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”
+
+She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a few minutes could
+not speak another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say
+something indistinctly of his concern, and observe her in compassionate
+silence. At length she spoke again. “I have just had a letter from Jane,
+with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger
+sister has left all her friends--has eloped; has thrown herself into
+the power of--of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton.
+_You_ know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no
+connections, nothing that can tempt him to--she is lost for ever.”
+
+Darcy was fixed in astonishment. “When I consider,” she added in a yet
+more agitated voice, “that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what
+he was. Had I but explained some part of it only--some part of what I
+learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not
+have happened. But it is all--all too late now.”
+
+“I am grieved indeed,” cried Darcy; “grieved--shocked. But is it
+certain--absolutely certain?”
+
+“Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced
+almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to
+Scotland.”
+
+“And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”
+
+“My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s
+immediate assistance; and we shall be off, I hope, in half-an-hour. But
+nothing can be done--I know very well that nothing can be done. How is
+such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have
+not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”
+
+Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence.
+
+“When _my_ eyes were opened to his real character--Oh! had I known what
+I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not--I was afraid of doing too
+much. Wretched, wretched mistake!”
+
+Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was walking
+up and down the room in earnest meditation, his brow contracted, his air
+gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and instantly understood it. Her
+power was sinking; everything _must_ sink under such a proof of family
+weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither
+wonder nor condemn, but the belief of his self-conquest brought nothing
+consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It
+was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own
+wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved
+him, as now, when all love must be vain.
+
+But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. Lydia--the
+humiliation, the misery she was bringing on them all, soon swallowed
+up every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief,
+Elizabeth was soon lost to everything else; and, after a pause of
+several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by
+the voice of her companion, who, in a manner which, though it spoke
+compassion, spoke likewise restraint, said, “I am afraid you have been
+long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my
+stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything
+could be either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to
+such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may
+seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I
+fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley
+to-day.”
+
+“Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologise for us to Miss Darcy. Say that
+urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as
+long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long.”
+
+He readily assured her of his secrecy; again expressed his sorrow for
+her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present
+reason to hope, and leaving his compliments for her relations, with only
+one serious, parting look, went away.
+
+As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they
+should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as
+had marked their several meetings in Derbyshire; and as she threw a
+retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full
+of contradictions and varieties, sighed at the perverseness of those
+feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, and would
+formerly have rejoiced in its termination.
+
+If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth’s
+change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty. But if
+otherwise--if regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or
+unnatural, in comparison of what is so often described as arising on
+a first interview with its object, and even before two words have been
+exchanged, nothing can be said in her defence, except that she had given
+somewhat of a trial to the latter method in her partiality for Wickham,
+and that its ill success might, perhaps, authorise her to seek the other
+less interesting mode of attachment. Be that as it may, she saw him
+go with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia’s infamy must
+produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched
+business. Never, since reading Jane’s second letter, had she entertained
+a hope of Wickham’s meaning to marry her. No one but Jane, she thought,
+could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least
+of her feelings on this development. While the contents of the first
+letter remained in her mind, she was all surprise--all astonishment that
+Wickham should marry a girl whom it was impossible he could marry
+for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him had appeared
+incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment
+as this she might have sufficient charms; and though she did not suppose
+Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement without the intention
+of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither her virtue
+nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy prey.
+
+She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that
+Lydia had any partiality for him; but she was convinced that Lydia
+wanted only encouragement to attach herself to anybody. Sometimes one
+officer, sometimes another, had been her favourite, as their attentions
+raised them in her opinion. Her affections had continually been
+fluctuating but never without an object. The mischief of neglect and
+mistaken indulgence towards such a girl--oh! how acutely did she now
+feel it!
+
+She was wild to be at home--to hear, to see, to be upon the spot to
+share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a
+family so deranged, a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and
+requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing
+could be done for Lydia, her uncle’s interference seemed of the utmost
+importance, and till he entered the room her impatience was severe. Mr.
+and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing by the servant’s
+account that their niece was taken suddenly ill; but satisfying them
+instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the cause of their
+summons, reading the two letters aloud, and dwelling on the postscript
+of the last with trembling energy.--Though Lydia had never been a
+favourite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be deeply
+afflicted. Not Lydia only, but all were concerned in it; and after the
+first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner promised every
+assistance in his power. Elizabeth, though expecting no less, thanked
+him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated by one spirit,
+everything relating to their journey was speedily settled. They were to
+be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be done about Pemberley?”
+ cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John told us Mr. Darcy was here when you sent for
+us; was it so?”
+
+“Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement.
+_That_ is all settled.”
+
+“What is all settled?” repeated the other, as she ran into her room to
+prepare. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real
+truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!”
+
+But wishes were vain, or at least could only serve to amuse her in the
+hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure
+to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was
+impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of
+business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to
+be written to all their friends at Lambton, with false excuses for their
+sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr.
+Gardiner meanwhile having settled his account at the inn, nothing
+remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of
+the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could
+have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn.
+
+
+
+Chapter 47
+
+
+“I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,” said her uncle, as they
+drove from the town; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much
+more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does on the
+matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should
+form such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or
+friendless, and who was actually staying in his colonel’s family, that I
+am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends
+would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the
+regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is
+not adequate to the risk!”
+
+“Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a moment.
+
+“Upon my word,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s
+opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and
+interest, for him to be guilty of. I cannot think so very ill of
+Wickham. Can you yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give him up, as to believe
+him capable of it?”
+
+“Not, perhaps, of neglecting his own interest; but of every other
+neglect I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I
+dare not hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland if that had been
+the case?”
+
+“In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof
+that they are not gone to Scotland.”
+
+“Oh! but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such
+a presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the
+Barnet road.”
+
+“Well, then--supposing them to be in London. They may be there, though
+for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptional purpose. It is
+not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it
+might strike them that they could be more economically, though less
+expeditiously, married in London than in Scotland.”
+
+“But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their
+marriage be private? Oh, no, no--this is not likely. His most particular
+friend, you see by Jane’s account, was persuaded of his never intending
+to marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He
+cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia--what attraction has she
+beyond youth, health, and good humour that could make him, for her sake,
+forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As to what
+restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the corps might throw on a
+dishonourable elopement with her, I am not able to judge; for I know
+nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But as to your
+other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has
+no brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father’s
+behaviour, from his indolence and the little attention he has ever
+seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that _he_ would
+do as little, and think as little about it, as any father could do, in
+such a matter.”
+
+“But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him
+as to consent to live with him on any terms other than marriage?”
+
+“It does seem, and it is most shocking indeed,” replied Elizabeth, with
+tears in her eyes, “that a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such
+a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say.
+Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young; she has never
+been taught to think on serious subjects; and for the last half-year,
+nay, for a twelvemonth--she has been given up to nothing but amusement
+and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle
+and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that came in her way.
+Since the ----shire were first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love,
+flirtation, and officers have been in her head. She has been doing
+everything in her power by thinking and talking on the subject, to give
+greater--what shall I call it? susceptibility to her feelings; which are
+naturally lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every charm of
+person and address that can captivate a woman.”
+
+“But you see that Jane,” said her aunt, “does not think so very ill of
+Wickham as to believe him capable of the attempt.”
+
+“Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be
+their former conduct, that she would think capable of such an attempt,
+till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what
+Wickham really is. We both know that he has been profligate in every
+sense of the word; that he has neither integrity nor honour; that he is
+as false and deceitful as he is insinuating.”
+
+“And do you really know all this?” cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose curiosity
+as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive.
+
+“I do indeed,” replied Elizabeth, colouring. “I told you, the other day,
+of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy; and you yourself, when last at
+Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of the man who had behaved
+with such forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are other
+circumstances which I am not at liberty--which it is not worth while to
+relate; but his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From
+what he said of Miss Darcy I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud,
+reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He
+must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we have found
+her.”
+
+“But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of what you
+and Jane seem so well to understand?”
+
+“Oh, yes!--that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, and saw
+so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was
+ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home, the ----shire
+was to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight’s time. As that was the
+case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I, thought it
+necessary to make our knowledge public; for of what use could
+it apparently be to any one, that the good opinion which all the
+neighbourhood had of him should then be overthrown? And even when it was
+settled that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of opening
+her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That _she_ could be
+in any danger from the deception never entered my head. That such a
+consequence as _this_ could ensue, you may easily believe, was far
+enough from my thoughts.”
+
+“When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no reason, I
+suppose, to believe them fond of each other?”
+
+“Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on either
+side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware
+that ours is not a family on which it could be thrown away. When first
+he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all
+were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for
+the first two months; but he never distinguished _her_ by any particular
+attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant and
+wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others of the regiment,
+who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”
+
+ * * * * *
+
+It may be easily believed, that however little of novelty could be added
+to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this interesting subject, by
+its repeated discussion, no other could detain them from it long, during
+the whole of the journey. From Elizabeth’s thoughts it was never absent.
+Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she could find
+no interval of ease or forgetfulness.
+
+They travelled as expeditiously as possible, and, sleeping one night
+on the road, reached Longbourn by dinner time the next day. It was a
+comfort to Elizabeth to consider that Jane could not have been wearied
+by long expectations.
+
+The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, were standing
+on the steps of the house as they entered the paddock; and, when the
+carriage drove up to the door, the joyful surprise that lighted up their
+faces, and displayed itself over their whole bodies, in a variety of
+capers and frisks, was the first pleasing earnest of their welcome.
+
+Elizabeth jumped out; and, after giving each of them a hasty kiss,
+hurried into the vestibule, where Jane, who came running down from her
+mother’s apartment, immediately met her.
+
+Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, whilst tears filled the
+eyes of both, lost not a moment in asking whether anything had been
+heard of the fugitives.
+
+“Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope
+everything will be well.”
+
+“Is my father in town?”
+
+“Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.”
+
+“And have you heard from him often?”
+
+“We have heard only twice. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday to say
+that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I
+particularly begged him to do. He merely added that he should not write
+again till he had something of importance to mention.”
+
+“And my mother--how is she? How are you all?”
+
+“My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are greatly
+shaken. She is up stairs and will have great satisfaction in seeing you
+all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank
+Heaven, are quite well.”
+
+“But you--how are you?” cried Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you
+must have gone through!”
+
+Her sister, however, assured her of her being perfectly well; and their
+conversation, which had been passing while Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were
+engaged with their children, was now put an end to by the approach
+of the whole party. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and
+thanked them both, with alternate smiles and tears.
+
+When they were all in the drawing-room, the questions which Elizabeth
+had already asked were of course repeated by the others, and they soon
+found that Jane had no intelligence to give. The sanguine hope of
+good, however, which the benevolence of her heart suggested had not yet
+deserted her; she still expected that it would all end well, and that
+every morning would bring some letter, either from Lydia or her father,
+to explain their proceedings, and, perhaps, announce their marriage.
+
+Mrs. Bennet, to whose apartment they all repaired, after a few minutes’
+conversation together, received them exactly as might be expected; with
+tears and lamentations of regret, invectives against the villainous
+conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her own sufferings and ill-usage;
+blaming everybody but the person to whose ill-judging indulgence the
+errors of her daughter must principally be owing.
+
+“If I had been able,” said she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton,
+with all my family, _this_ would not have happened; but poor dear Lydia
+had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out
+of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their
+side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing if she had been
+well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have the
+charge of her; but I was overruled, as I always am. Poor dear child!
+And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham,
+wherever he meets him and then he will be killed, and what is to become
+of us all? The Collinses will turn us out before he is cold in his
+grave, and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what we
+shall do.”
+
+They all exclaimed against such terrific ideas; and Mr. Gardiner, after
+general assurances of his affection for her and all her family, told her
+that he meant to be in London the very next day, and would assist Mr.
+Bennet in every endeavour for recovering Lydia.
+
+“Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he; “though it is right to be
+prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.
+It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more we
+may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married,
+and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as
+lost. As soon as I get to town I shall go to my brother, and make
+him come home with me to Gracechurch Street; and then we may consult
+together as to what is to be done.”
+
+“Oh! my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I
+could most wish for. And now do, when you get to town, find them out,
+wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, _make_ them
+marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that, but
+tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them,
+after they are married. And, above all, keep Mr. Bennet from fighting.
+Tell him what a dreadful state I am in, that I am frighted out of my
+wits--and have such tremblings, such flutterings, all over me--such
+spasms in my side and pains in my head, and such beatings at heart, that
+I can get no rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear Lydia not to
+give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me, for she does
+not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how kind you are! I
+know you will contrive it all.”
+
+But Mr. Gardiner, though he assured her again of his earnest endeavours
+in the cause, could not avoid recommending moderation to her, as well
+in her hopes as her fear; and after talking with her in this manner till
+dinner was on the table, they all left her to vent all her feelings on
+the housekeeper, who attended in the absence of her daughters.
+
+Though her brother and sister were persuaded that there was no real
+occasion for such a seclusion from the family, they did not attempt to
+oppose it, for they knew that she had not prudence enough to hold her
+tongue before the servants, while they waited at table, and judged it
+better that _one_ only of the household, and the one whom they could
+most trust should comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the
+subject.
+
+In the dining-room they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been
+too busily engaged in their separate apartments to make their appearance
+before. One came from her books, and the other from her toilette. The
+faces of both, however, were tolerably calm; and no change was visible
+in either, except that the loss of her favourite sister, or the anger
+which she had herself incurred in this business, had given more of
+fretfulness than usual to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was
+mistress enough of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a countenance
+of grave reflection, soon after they were seated at table:
+
+“This is a most unfortunate affair, and will probably be much talked of.
+But we must stem the tide of malice, and pour into the wounded bosoms of
+each other the balm of sisterly consolation.”
+
+Then, perceiving in Elizabeth no inclination of replying, she added,
+“Unhappy as the event must be for Lydia, we may draw from it this useful
+lesson: that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable; that one
+false step involves her in endless ruin; that her reputation is no less
+brittle than it is beautiful; and that she cannot be too much guarded in
+her behaviour towards the undeserving of the other sex.”
+
+Elizabeth lifted up her eyes in amazement, but was too much oppressed
+to make any reply. Mary, however, continued to console herself with such
+kind of moral extractions from the evil before them.
+
+In the afternoon, the two elder Miss Bennets were able to be for
+half-an-hour by themselves; and Elizabeth instantly availed herself of
+the opportunity of making any inquiries, which Jane was equally eager to
+satisfy. After joining in general lamentations over the dreadful sequel
+of this event, which Elizabeth considered as all but certain, and Miss
+Bennet could not assert to be wholly impossible, the former continued
+the subject, by saying, “But tell me all and everything about it which
+I have not already heard. Give me further particulars. What did Colonel
+Forster say? Had they no apprehension of anything before the elopement
+took place? They must have seen them together for ever.”
+
+“Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality,
+especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so
+grieved for him! His behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He
+_was_ coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he had
+any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when that apprehension
+first got abroad, it hastened his journey.”
+
+“And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did he know of
+their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny himself?”
+
+“Yes; but, when questioned by _him_, Denny denied knowing anything of
+their plans, and would not give his real opinion about it. He did not
+repeat his persuasion of their not marrying--and from _that_, I am
+inclined to hope, he might have been misunderstood before.”
+
+“And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you entertained a
+doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?”
+
+“How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? I felt
+a little uneasy--a little fearful of my sister’s happiness with him
+in marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been always quite
+right. My father and mother knew nothing of that; they only felt how
+imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, with a very natural
+triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter
+she had prepared her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their
+being in love with each other, many weeks.”
+
+“But not before they went to Brighton?”
+
+“No, I believe not.”
+
+“And did Colonel Forster appear to think well of Wickham himself? Does
+he know his real character?”
+
+“I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly
+did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant. And since this sad
+affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt;
+but I hope this may be false.”
+
+“Oh, Jane, had we been less secret, had we told what we knew of him,
+this could not have happened!”
+
+“Perhaps it would have been better,” replied her sister. “But to expose
+the former faults of any person without knowing what their present
+feelings were, seemed unjustifiable. We acted with the best intentions.”
+
+“Could Colonel Forster repeat the particulars of Lydia’s note to his
+wife?”
+
+“He brought it with him for us to see.”
+
+Jane then took it from her pocket-book, and gave it to Elizabeth. These
+were the contents:
+
+“MY DEAR HARRIET,
+
+“You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help
+laughing myself at your surprise to-morrow morning, as soon as I am
+missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with who,
+I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I
+love, and he is an angel. I should never be happy without him, so think
+it no harm to be off. You need not send them word at Longbourn of my
+going, if you do not like it, for it will make the surprise the greater,
+when I write to them and sign my name ‘Lydia Wickham.’ What a good joke
+it will be! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make my excuses to
+Pratt for not keeping my engagement, and dancing with him to-night.
+Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all; and tell him I will
+dance with him at the next ball we meet, with great pleasure. I shall
+send for my clothes when I get to Longbourn; but I wish you would tell
+Sally to mend a great slit in my worked muslin gown before they are
+packed up. Good-bye. Give my love to Colonel Forster. I hope you will
+drink to our good journey.
+
+“Your affectionate friend,
+
+“LYDIA BENNET.”
+
+“Oh! thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth when she had
+finished it. “What a letter is this, to be written at such a moment!
+But at least it shows that _she_ was serious on the subject of their
+journey. Whatever he might afterwards persuade her to, it was not on her
+side a _scheme_ of infamy. My poor father! how he must have felt it!”
+
+“I never saw anyone so shocked. He could not speak a word for full ten
+minutes. My mother was taken ill immediately, and the whole house in
+such confusion!”
+
+“Oh! Jane,” cried Elizabeth, “was there a servant belonging to it who
+did not know the whole story before the end of the day?”
+
+“I do not know. I hope there was. But to be guarded at such a time is
+very difficult. My mother was in hysterics, and though I endeavoured to
+give her every assistance in my power, I am afraid I did not do so
+much as I might have done! But the horror of what might possibly happen
+almost took from me my faculties.”
+
+“Your attendance upon her has been too much for you. You do not look
+well. Oh that I had been with you! you have had every care and anxiety
+upon yourself alone.”
+
+“Mary and Kitty have been very kind, and would have shared in every
+fatigue, I am sure; but I did not think it right for either of them.
+Kitty is slight and delicate; and Mary studies so much, that her hours
+of repose should not be broken in on. My aunt Phillips came to Longbourn
+on Tuesday, after my father went away; and was so good as to stay till
+Thursday with me. She was of great use and comfort to us all. And
+Lady Lucas has been very kind; she walked here on Wednesday morning to
+condole with us, and offered her services, or any of her daughters’, if
+they should be of use to us.”
+
+“She had better have stayed at home,” cried Elizabeth; “perhaps she
+_meant_ well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see
+too little of one’s neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence
+insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.”
+
+She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her father had
+intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter.
+
+“He meant I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where
+they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if anything could
+be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the
+number of the hackney coach which took them from Clapham. It had come
+with a fare from London; and as he thought that the circumstance of a
+gentleman and lady’s removing from one carriage into another might
+be remarked he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow
+discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he
+determined to make inquiries there, and hoped it might not be impossible
+to find out the stand and number of the coach. I do not know of any
+other designs that he had formed; but he was in such a hurry to be gone,
+and his spirits so greatly discomposed, that I had difficulty in finding
+out even so much as this.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 48
+
+
+The whole party were in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the next
+morning, but the post came in without bringing a single line from him.
+His family knew him to be, on all common occasions, a most negligent and
+dilatory correspondent; but at such a time they had hoped for exertion.
+They were forced to conclude that he had no pleasing intelligence to
+send; but even of _that_ they would have been glad to be certain. Mr.
+Gardiner had waited only for the letters before he set off.
+
+When he was gone, they were certain at least of receiving constant
+information of what was going on, and their uncle promised, at parting,
+to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn, as soon as he could,
+to the great consolation of his sister, who considered it as the only
+security for her husband’s not being killed in a duel.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner and the children were to remain in Hertfordshire a few
+days longer, as the former thought her presence might be serviceable
+to her nieces. She shared in their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a
+great comfort to them in their hours of freedom. Their other aunt also
+visited them frequently, and always, as she said, with the design of
+cheering and heartening them up--though, as she never came without
+reporting some fresh instance of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity,
+she seldom went away without leaving them more dispirited than she found
+them.
+
+All Meryton seemed striving to blacken the man who, but three months
+before, had been almost an angel of light. He was declared to be in debt
+to every tradesman in the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with
+the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman’s family.
+Everybody declared that he was the wickedest young man in the world;
+and everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the
+appearance of his goodness. Elizabeth, though she did not credit above
+half of what was said, believed enough to make her former assurance of
+her sister’s ruin more certain; and even Jane, who believed still less
+of it, became almost hopeless, more especially as the time was now come
+when, if they had gone to Scotland, which she had never before entirely
+despaired of, they must in all probability have gained some news of
+them.
+
+Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday his wife received a
+letter from him; it told them that, on his arrival, he had immediately
+found out his brother, and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street;
+that Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, before his arrival,
+but without gaining any satisfactory information; and that he was now
+determined to inquire at all the principal hotels in town, as Mr. Bennet
+thought it possible they might have gone to one of them, on their first
+coming to London, before they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself
+did not expect any success from this measure, but as his brother was
+eager in it, he meant to assist him in pursuing it. He added that Mr.
+Bennet seemed wholly disinclined at present to leave London and promised
+to write again very soon. There was also a postscript to this effect:
+
+“I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, if
+possible, from some of the young man’s intimates in the regiment,
+whether Wickham has any relations or connections who would be likely to
+know in what part of town he has now concealed himself. If there were
+anyone that one could apply to with a probability of gaining such a
+clue as that, it might be of essential consequence. At present we have
+nothing to guide us. Colonel Forster will, I dare say, do everything in
+his power to satisfy us on this head. But, on second thoughts, perhaps,
+Lizzy could tell us what relations he has now living, better than any
+other person.”
+
+Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this deference to her
+authority proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any information
+of so satisfactory a nature as the compliment deserved. She had never
+heard of his having had any relations, except a father and mother, both
+of whom had been dead many years. It was possible, however, that some of
+his companions in the ----shire might be able to give more information;
+and though she was not very sanguine in expecting it, the application
+was a something to look forward to.
+
+Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most anxious
+part of each was when the post was expected. The arrival of letters
+was the grand object of every morning’s impatience. Through letters,
+whatever of good or bad was to be told would be communicated, and every
+succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance.
+
+But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for
+their father, from a different quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane
+had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence,
+she accordingly read; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his
+letters always were, looked over her, and read it likewise. It was as
+follows:
+
+“MY DEAR SIR,
+
+“I feel myself called upon, by our relationship, and my situation
+in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are now
+suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter from
+Hertfordshire. Be assured, my dear sir, that Mrs. Collins and myself
+sincerely sympathise with you and all your respectable family, in
+your present distress, which must be of the bitterest kind, because
+proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No arguments shall be
+wanting on my part that can alleviate so severe a misfortune--or that
+may comfort you, under a circumstance that must be of all others the
+most afflicting to a parent’s mind. The death of your daughter would
+have been a blessing in comparison of this. And it is the more to
+be lamented, because there is reason to suppose as my dear Charlotte
+informs me, that this licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter has
+proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence; though, at the same time,
+for the consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, I am inclined to think
+that her own disposition must be naturally bad, or she could not be
+guilty of such an enormity, at so early an age. Howsoever that may be,
+you are grievously to be pitied; in which opinion I am not only joined
+by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine and her daughter, to
+whom I have related the affair. They agree with me in apprehending that
+this false step in one daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of
+all the others; for who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says,
+will connect themselves with such a family? And this consideration leads
+me moreover to reflect, with augmented satisfaction, on a certain event
+of last November; for had it been otherwise, I must have been involved
+in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me then advise you, dear sir, to
+console yourself as much as possible, to throw off your unworthy child
+from your affection for ever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her
+own heinous offense.
+
+“I am, dear sir, etc., etc.”
+
+Mr. Gardiner did not write again till he had received an answer from
+Colonel Forster; and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send.
+It was not known that Wickham had a single relationship with whom he
+kept up any connection, and it was certain that he had no near one
+living. His former acquaintances had been numerous; but since he
+had been in the militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of
+particular friendship with any of them. There was no one, therefore,
+who could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And in the
+wretched state of his own finances, there was a very powerful motive for
+secrecy, in addition to his fear of discovery by Lydia’s relations, for
+it had just transpired that he had left gaming debts behind him to a
+very considerable amount. Colonel Forster believed that more than a
+thousand pounds would be necessary to clear his expenses at Brighton.
+He owed a good deal in town, but his debts of honour were still more
+formidable. Mr. Gardiner did not attempt to conceal these particulars
+from the Longbourn family. Jane heard them with horror. “A gamester!”
+ she cried. “This is wholly unexpected. I had not an idea of it.”
+
+Mr. Gardiner added in his letter, that they might expect to see their
+father at home on the following day, which was Saturday. Rendered
+spiritless by the ill-success of all their endeavours, he had yielded
+to his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his family, and
+leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest to be advisable
+for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this, she did
+not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering
+what her anxiety for his life had been before.
+
+“What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia?” she cried. “Sure he
+will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham,
+and make him marry her, if he comes away?”
+
+As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she
+and the children should go to London, at the same time that Mr. Bennet
+came from it. The coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their
+journey, and brought its master back to Longbourn.
+
+Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her
+Derbyshire friend that had attended her from that part of the world. His
+name had never been voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; and
+the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their
+being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing. Elizabeth had
+received none since her return that could come from Pemberley.
+
+The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for
+the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be
+fairly conjectured from _that_, though Elizabeth, who was by this time
+tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware
+that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of
+Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought,
+one sleepless night out of two.
+
+When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual
+philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the
+habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him
+away, and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of
+it.
+
+It was not till the afternoon, when he had joined them at tea, that
+Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly
+expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say
+nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing,
+and I ought to feel it.”
+
+“You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth.
+
+“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone
+to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have
+been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression.
+It will pass away soon enough.”
+
+“Do you suppose them to be in London?”
+
+“Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?”
+
+“And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty.
+
+“She is happy then,” said her father drily; “and her residence there
+will probably be of some duration.”
+
+Then after a short silence he continued:
+
+“Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your advice to me
+last May, which, considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.”
+
+They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother’s
+tea.
+
+“This is a parade,” he cried, “which does one good; it gives such an
+elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my
+library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as
+I can; or, perhaps, I may defer it till Kitty runs away.”
+
+“I am not going to run away, papa,” said Kitty fretfully. “If I should
+ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.”
+
+“_You_ go to Brighton. I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne
+for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to be cautious, and
+you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter into
+my house again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be
+absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters.
+And you are never to stir out of doors till you can prove that you have
+spent ten minutes of every day in a rational manner.”
+
+Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.
+
+“Well, well,” said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good
+girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of
+them.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 49
+
+
+Two days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking
+together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper
+coming towards them, and, concluding that she came to call them to their
+mother, went forward to meet her; but, instead of the expected summons,
+when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, “I beg your pardon,
+madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some
+good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”
+
+“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”
+
+“Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, “don’t you know
+there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here
+this half-hour, and master has had a letter.”
+
+Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. They
+ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the
+library; their father was in neither; and they were on the point of
+seeking him up stairs with their mother, when they were met by the
+butler, who said:
+
+“If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the
+little copse.”
+
+Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once
+more, and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberately
+pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock.
+
+Jane, who was not so light nor so much in the habit of running as
+Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath,
+came up with him, and eagerly cried out:
+
+“Oh, papa, what news--what news? Have you heard from my uncle?”
+
+“Yes I have had a letter from him by express.”
+
+“Well, and what news does it bring--good or bad?”
+
+“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from
+his pocket. “But perhaps you would like to read it.”
+
+Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.
+
+“Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is
+about.”
+
+“Gracechurch Street, Monday, August 2.
+
+“MY DEAR BROTHER,
+
+“At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such as,
+upon the whole, I hope it will give you satisfaction. Soon after you
+left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what part of
+London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet; it is enough
+to know they are discovered. I have seen them both--”
+
+“Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane; “they are married!”
+
+Elizabeth read on:
+
+“I have seen them both. They are not married, nor can I find there
+was any intention of being so; but if you are willing to perform the
+engagements which I have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will
+not be long before they are. All that is required of you is, to assure
+to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five thousand
+pounds secured among your children after the decease of yourself and
+my sister; and, moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her,
+during your life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions
+which, considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with,
+as far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by
+express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You
+will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s
+circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be.
+The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to say there
+will be some little money, even when all his debts are discharged, to
+settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I conclude
+will be the case, you send me full powers to act in your name throughout
+the whole of this business, I will immediately give directions to
+Haggerston for preparing a proper settlement. There will not be the
+smallest occasion for your coming to town again; therefore stay quiet at
+Longbourn, and depend on my diligence and care. Send back your answer as
+fast as you can, and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it
+best that my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope
+you will approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as
+anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.,
+
+“EDW. GARDINER.”
+
+“Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. “Can it be
+possible that he will marry her?”
+
+“Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we thought him,” said her
+sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.”
+
+“And have you answered the letter?” cried Elizabeth.
+
+“No; but it must be done soon.”
+
+Most earnestly did she then entreat him to lose no more time before he
+wrote.
+
+“Oh! my dear father,” she cried, “come back and write immediately.
+Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”
+
+“Let me write for you,” said Jane, “if you dislike the trouble
+yourself.”
+
+“I dislike it very much,” he replied; “but it must be done.”
+
+And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards the house.
+
+“And may I ask--” said Elizabeth; “but the terms, I suppose, must be
+complied with.”
+
+“Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.”
+
+“And they _must_ marry! Yet he is _such_ a man!”
+
+“Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there
+are two things that I want very much to know; one is, how much money
+your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how am I ever
+to pay him.”
+
+“Money! My uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”
+
+“I mean, that no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so slight a
+temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am
+gone.”
+
+“That is very true,” said Elizabeth; “though it had not occurred to me
+before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh!
+it must be my uncle’s doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has
+distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”
+
+“No,” said her father; “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing
+less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to think so ill of him,
+in the very beginning of our relationship.”
+
+“Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be
+repaid?”
+
+Mr. Bennet made no answer, and each of them, deep in thought, continued
+silent till they reached the house. Their father then went on to the
+library to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast-room.
+
+“And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as soon as they
+were by themselves. “How strange this is! And for _this_ we are to be
+thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness,
+and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice. Oh, Lydia!”
+
+“I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would
+not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind
+uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten
+thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children
+of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand
+pounds?”
+
+“If he were ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” said
+Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall
+exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has
+not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never
+be requited. Their taking her home, and affording her their personal
+protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as
+years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is
+actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now,
+she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she
+first sees my aunt!”
+
+“We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” said
+Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to
+marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of
+thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself
+they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in
+time make their past imprudence forgotten.”
+
+“Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor
+I, nor anybody can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”
+
+It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all likelihood
+perfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went to the library,
+therefore, and asked their father whether he would not wish them to make
+it known to her. He was writing and, without raising his head, coolly
+replied:
+
+“Just as you please.”
+
+“May we take my uncle’s letter to read to her?”
+
+“Take whatever you like, and get away.”
+
+Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, and they went up stairs
+together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: one communication
+would, therefore, do for all. After a slight preparation for good news,
+the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardly contain herself. As
+soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner’s hope of Lydia’s being soon
+married, her joy burst forth, and every following sentence added to its
+exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent from delight, as she
+had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter
+would be married was enough. She was disturbed by no fear for her
+felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.
+
+“My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried. “This is delightful indeed! She will
+be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen!
+My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be. I knew he would manage
+everything! How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the
+clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about
+them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him
+how much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell,
+Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear
+Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”
+
+Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the violence of
+these transports, by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr.
+Gardiner’s behaviour laid them all under.
+
+“For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, “in a great
+measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to
+assist Mr. Wickham with money.”
+
+“Well,” cried her mother, “it is all very right; who should do it but
+her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my children
+must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have
+ever had anything from him, except a few presents. Well! I am so happy!
+In a short time I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well
+it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in
+such a flutter, that I am sure I can’t write; so I will dictate, and
+you write for me. We will settle with your father about the money
+afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.”
+
+She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, and
+cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had
+not Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait till her
+father was at leisure to be consulted. One day’s delay, she observed,
+would be of small importance; and her mother was too happy to be quite
+so obstinate as usual. Other schemes, too, came into her head.
+
+“I will go to Meryton,” said she, “as soon as I am dressed, and tell the
+good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call
+on Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage.
+An airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do
+anything for you in Meryton? Oh! Here comes Hill! My dear Hill, have you
+heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shall
+all have a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.”
+
+Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received her
+congratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, took
+refuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom.
+
+Poor Lydia’s situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was
+no worse, she had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, in
+looking forward, neither rational happiness nor worldly prosperity could
+be justly expected for her sister, in looking back to what they had
+feared, only two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what they had
+gained.
+
+
+
+Chapter 50
+
+
+Mr. Bennet had very often wished before this period of his life that,
+instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum for
+the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived
+him. He now wished it more than ever. Had he done his duty in that
+respect, Lydia need not have been indebted to her uncle for whatever
+of honour or credit could now be purchased for her. The satisfaction of
+prevailing on one of the most worthless young men in Great Britain to be
+her husband might then have rested in its proper place.
+
+He was seriously concerned that a cause of so little advantage to anyone
+should be forwarded at the sole expense of his brother-in-law, and he
+was determined, if possible, to find out the extent of his assistance,
+and to discharge the obligation as soon as he could.
+
+When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly
+useless, for, of course, they were to have a son. The son was to join
+in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow
+and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters
+successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs.
+Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he
+would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then
+too late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy, and her
+husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their
+income.
+
+Five thousand pounds was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and
+the children. But in what proportions it should be divided amongst the
+latter depended on the will of the parents. This was one point, with
+regard to Lydia, at least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet
+could have no hesitation in acceding to the proposal before him. In
+terms of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother,
+though expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his perfect
+approbation of all that was done, and his willingness to fulfil the
+engagements that had been made for him. He had never before supposed
+that, could Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it would
+be done with so little inconvenience to himself as by the present
+arrangement. He would scarcely be ten pounds a year the loser by the
+hundred that was to be paid them; for, what with her board and pocket
+allowance, and the continual presents in money which passed to her
+through her mother’s hands, Lydia’s expenses had been very little within
+that sum.
+
+That it would be done with such trifling exertion on his side, too, was
+another very welcome surprise; for his wish at present was to have as
+little trouble in the business as possible. When the first transports
+of rage which had produced his activity in seeking her were over, he
+naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was soon
+dispatched; for, though dilatory in undertaking business, he was quick
+in its execution. He begged to know further particulars of what he
+was indebted to his brother, but was too angry with Lydia to send any
+message to her.
+
+The good news spread quickly through the house, and with proportionate
+speed through the neighbourhood. It was borne in the latter with decent
+philosophy. To be sure, it would have been more for the advantage
+of conversation had Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town; or, as the
+happiest alternative, been secluded from the world, in some distant
+farmhouse. But there was much to be talked of in marrying her; and the
+good-natured wishes for her well-doing which had proceeded before from
+all the spiteful old ladies in Meryton lost but a little of their spirit
+in this change of circumstances, because with such an husband her misery
+was considered certain.
+
+It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been downstairs; but on this
+happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table, and in
+spirits oppressively high. No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her
+triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been the first object
+of her wishes since Jane was sixteen, was now on the point of
+accomplishment, and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those
+attendants of elegant nuptials, fine muslins, new carriages, and
+servants. She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a
+proper situation for her daughter, and, without knowing or considering
+what their income might be, rejected many as deficient in size and
+importance.
+
+“Haye Park might do,” said she, “if the Gouldings could quit it--or the
+great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is
+too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for
+Pulvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.”
+
+Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the
+servants remained. But when they had withdrawn, he said to her: “Mrs.
+Bennet, before you take any or all of these houses for your son and
+daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into _one_ house in this
+neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the
+impudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.”
+
+A long dispute followed this declaration; but Mr. Bennet was firm. It
+soon led to another; and Mrs. Bennet found, with amazement and horror,
+that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his
+daughter. He protested that she should receive from him no mark of
+affection whatever on the occasion. Mrs. Bennet could hardly comprehend
+it. That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable
+resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege without which her
+marriage would scarcely seem valid, exceeded all she could believe
+possible. She was more alive to the disgrace which her want of new
+clothes must reflect on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of
+shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they
+took place.
+
+Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the distress of
+the moment, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for
+her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the
+proper termination to the elopement, they might hope to conceal its
+unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the
+spot.
+
+She had no fear of its spreading farther through his means. There were
+few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended;
+but, at the same time, there was no one whose knowledge of a sister’s
+frailty would have mortified her so much--not, however, from any fear
+of disadvantage from it individually to herself, for, at any rate,
+there seemed a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been
+concluded on the most honourable terms, it was not to be supposed that
+Mr. Darcy would connect himself with a family where, to every other
+objection, would now be added an alliance and relationship of the
+nearest kind with a man whom he so justly scorned.
+
+From such a connection she could not wonder that he would shrink. The
+wish of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his
+feeling in Derbyshire, could not in rational expectation survive such a
+blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, though she
+hardly knew of what. She became jealous of his esteem, when she could no
+longer hope to be benefited by it. She wanted to hear of him, when there
+seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence. She was convinced that
+she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they
+should meet.
+
+What a triumph for him, as she often thought, could he know that the
+proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago, would now
+have been most gladly and gratefully received! He was as generous, she
+doubted not, as the most generous of his sex; but while he was mortal,
+there must be a triumph.
+
+She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in
+disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and
+temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It
+was an union that must have been to the advantage of both; by her ease
+and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved;
+and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she
+must have received benefit of greater importance.
+
+But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what
+connubial felicity really was. An union of a different tendency, and
+precluding the possibility of the other, was soon to be formed in their
+family.
+
+How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence,
+she could not imagine. But how little of permanent happiness could
+belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions
+were stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Mr. Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s
+acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurance of his eagerness to
+promote the welfare of any of his family; and concluded with entreaties
+that the subject might never be mentioned to him again. The principal
+purport of his letter was to inform them that Mr. Wickham had resolved
+on quitting the militia.
+
+“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as
+his marriage was fixed on. And I think you will agree with me, in
+considering the removal from that corps as highly advisable, both on
+his account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into
+the regulars; and among his former friends, there are still some who
+are able and willing to assist him in the army. He has the promise of an
+ensigncy in General ----‘s regiment, now quartered in the North. It
+is an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He
+promises fairly; and I hope among different people, where they may each
+have a character to preserve, they will both be more prudent. I have
+written to Colonel Forster, to inform him of our present arrangements,
+and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr. Wickham
+in and near Brighton, with assurances of speedy payment, for which I
+have pledged myself. And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying
+similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin
+a list according to his information? He has given in all his debts; I
+hope at least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our directions,
+and all will be completed in a week. They will then join his regiment,
+unless they are first invited to Longbourn; and I understand from Mrs.
+Gardiner, that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she
+leaves the South. She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to
+you and her mother.--Yours, etc.,
+
+“E. GARDINER.”
+
+Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham’s removal
+from the ----shire as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But Mrs. Bennet
+was not so well pleased with it. Lydia’s being settled in the North,
+just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her company,
+for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in
+Hertfordshire, was a severe disappointment; and, besides, it was such a
+pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted
+with everybody, and had so many favourites.
+
+“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking
+to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she
+likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General ----‘s
+regiment.”
+
+His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being
+admitted into her family again before she set off for the North,
+received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth,
+who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and
+consequence, that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents,
+urged him so earnestly yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her
+and her husband at Longbourn, as soon as they were married, that he was
+prevailed on to think as they thought, and act as they wished. And their
+mother had the satisfaction of knowing that she would be able to show
+her married daughter in the neighbourhood before she was banished to the
+North. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore, he sent
+his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that as soon as
+the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth was
+surprised, however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme, and
+had she consulted only her own inclination, any meeting with him would
+have been the last object of her wishes.
+
+
+
+Chapter 51
+
+
+Their sister’s wedding day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her
+probably more than she felt for herself. The carriage was sent to
+meet them at ----, and they were to return in it by dinner-time. Their
+arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets, and Jane more especially,
+who gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had she
+been the culprit, and was wretched in the thought of what her sister
+must endure.
+
+They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast room to receive
+them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet as the carriage drove up to
+the door; her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed,
+anxious, uneasy.
+
+Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and
+she ran into the room. Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and
+welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand, with an affectionate smile,
+to Wickham, who followed his lady; and wished them both joy with an
+alacrity which shewed no doubt of their happiness.
+
+Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite
+so cordial. His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely
+opened his lips. The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was
+enough to provoke him. Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet
+was shocked. Lydia was Lydia still; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy,
+and fearless. She turned from sister to sister, demanding their
+congratulations; and when at length they all sat down, looked eagerly
+round the room, took notice of some little alteration in it, and
+observed, with a laugh, that it was a great while since she had been
+there.
+
+Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself, but his manners
+were always so pleasing, that had his character and his marriage been
+exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he
+claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth had
+not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat down,
+resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence
+of an impudent man. She blushed, and Jane blushed; but the cheeks of the
+two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of colour.
+
+There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither
+of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to sit near
+Elizabeth, began inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood,
+with a good humoured ease which she felt very unable to equal in her
+replies. They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the
+world. Nothing of the past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led
+voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for
+the world.
+
+“Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away;
+it seems but a fortnight I declare; and yet there have been things
+enough happened in the time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure
+I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! though I
+thought it would be very good fun if I was.”
+
+Her father lifted up his eyes. Jane was distressed. Elizabeth looked
+expressively at Lydia; but she, who never heard nor saw anything of
+which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued, “Oh! mamma, do the
+people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was afraid they might not;
+and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle, so I was determined he
+should know it, and so I let down the side-glass next to him, and took
+off my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, so that
+he might see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like anything.”
+
+Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up, and ran out of the room;
+and returned no more, till she heard them passing through the hall to
+the dining parlour. She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with
+anxious parade, walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say
+to her eldest sister, “Ah! Jane, I take your place now, and you must go
+lower, because I am a married woman.”
+
+It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment
+from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good
+spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Phillips, the Lucases, and
+all their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham”
+ by each of them; and in the mean time, she went after dinner to show her
+ring, and boast of being married, to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids.
+
+“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the breakfast
+room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a charming man? I
+am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they may have half
+my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the place to get
+husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go.”
+
+“Very true; and if I had my will, we should. But my dear Lydia, I don’t
+at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”
+
+“Oh, lord! yes;--there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all
+things. You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We
+shall be at Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some
+balls, and I will take care to get good partners for them all.”
+
+“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother.
+
+“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters
+behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the
+winter is over.”
+
+“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth; “but I do not
+particularly like your way of getting husbands.”
+
+Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham
+had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join
+his regiment at the end of a fortnight.
+
+No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and
+she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and
+having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to
+all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did
+think, than such as did not.
+
+Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected
+to find it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her
+present observation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that
+their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love, rather
+than by his; and she would have wondered why, without violently caring
+for her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain
+that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and
+if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity
+of having a companion.
+
+Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every
+occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did every
+thing best in the world; and she was sure he would kill more birds on
+the first of September, than any body else in the country.
+
+One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two
+elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth:
+
+“Lizzy, I never gave _you_ an account of my wedding, I believe. You
+were not by, when I told mamma and the others all about it. Are not you
+curious to hear how it was managed?”
+
+“No really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little said
+on the subject.”
+
+“La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were
+married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in
+that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven
+o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others
+were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in
+such a fuss! I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to
+put it off, and then I should have gone quite distracted. And there was
+my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and talking away just as
+if she was reading a sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in
+ten, for I was thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed
+to know whether he would be married in his blue coat.”
+
+“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual; I thought it would never
+be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand, that my uncle and aunt
+were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe
+me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a
+fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything. To be sure London was
+rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so
+just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was called away upon
+business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you know, when once
+they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so frightened I
+did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away; and if we
+were beyond the hour, we could not be married all day. But, luckily, he
+came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set out. However,
+I recollected afterwards that if he had been prevented going, the
+wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as well.”
+
+“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.
+
+“Oh, yes!--he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But gracious
+me! I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised
+them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!”
+
+“If it was to be secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the
+subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.”
+
+“Oh! certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will
+ask you no questions.”
+
+“Thank you,” said Lydia, “for if you did, I should certainly tell you
+all, and then Wickham would be angry.”
+
+On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her
+power, by running away.
+
+But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least
+it was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at
+her sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people,
+where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go.
+Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her
+brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as
+placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She
+could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper,
+wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what
+Lydia had dropt, if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been
+intended.
+
+“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be
+to know how a person unconnected with any of us, and (comparatively
+speaking) a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such
+a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it--unless it is,
+for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems
+to think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with
+ignorance.”
+
+“Not that I _shall_, though,” she added to herself, as she finished
+the letter; “and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable
+manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it
+out.”
+
+Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to
+Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad
+of it;--till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any
+satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.
+
+
+
+Chapter 52
+
+
+Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as
+soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it
+than, hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to
+be interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches and prepared to
+be happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not
+contain a denial.
+
+“Gracechurch street, Sept. 6.
+
+“MY DEAR NIECE,
+
+“I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole morning
+to answering it, as I foresee that a _little_ writing will not comprise
+what I have to tell you. I must confess myself surprised by your
+application; I did not expect it from _you_. Don’t think me angry,
+however, for I only mean to let you know that I had not imagined such
+inquiries to be necessary on _your_ side. If you do not choose to
+understand me, forgive my impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised
+as I am--and nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned
+would have allowed him to act as he has done. But if you are really
+innocent and ignorant, I must be more explicit.
+
+“On the very day of my coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most
+unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called, and was shut up with him several
+hours. It was all over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so
+dreadfully racked as _yours_ seems to have been. He came to tell Mr.
+Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were,
+and that he had seen and talked with them both; Wickham repeatedly,
+Lydia once. From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day
+after ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for
+them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to
+himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as to
+make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide
+in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken pride, and
+confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay his private
+actions open to the world. His character was to speak for itself. He
+called it, therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy
+an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he _had another_
+motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him. He had been some days
+in town, before he was able to discover them; but he had something to
+direct his search, which was more than _we_ had; and the consciousness
+of this was another reason for his resolving to follow us.
+
+“There is a lady, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago
+governess to Miss Darcy, and was dismissed from her charge on some cause
+of disapprobation, though he did not say what. She then took a large
+house in Edward-street, and has since maintained herself by letting
+lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with
+Wickham; and he went to her for intelligence of him as soon as he got to
+town. But it was two or three days before he could get from her what he
+wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery and
+corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be found.
+Wickham indeed had gone to her on their first arrival in London, and had
+she been able to receive them into her house, they would have taken up
+their abode with her. At length, however, our kind friend procured the
+wished-for direction. They were in ---- street. He saw Wickham, and
+afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. His first object with her, he
+acknowledged, had been to persuade her to quit her present disgraceful
+situation, and return to her friends as soon as they could be prevailed
+on to receive her, offering his assistance, as far as it would go. But
+he found Lydia absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared
+for none of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear
+of leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or
+other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her feelings,
+it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a marriage, which,
+in his very first conversation with Wickham, he easily learnt had never
+been _his_ design. He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment,
+on account of some debts of honour, which were very pressing; and
+scrupled not to lay all the ill-consequences of Lydia’s flight on her
+own folly alone. He meant to resign his commission immediately; and as
+to his future situation, he could conjecture very little about it. He
+must go somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he should have
+nothing to live on.
+
+“Mr. Darcy asked him why he had not married your sister at once. Though
+Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have been able
+to do something for him, and his situation must have been benefited by
+marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, that Wickham still
+cherished the hope of more effectually making his fortune by marriage in
+some other country. Under such circumstances, however, he was not likely
+to be proof against the temptation of immediate relief.
+
+“They met several times, for there was much to be discussed. Wickham of
+course wanted more than he could get; but at length was reduced to be
+reasonable.
+
+“Every thing being settled between _them_, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to
+make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch
+street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not be
+seen, and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was
+still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge
+your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your
+uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the
+departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next
+day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business.
+
+“On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your uncle at home,
+and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk together.
+
+“They met again on Sunday, and then _I_ saw him too. It was not all
+settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express was sent off to
+Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that
+obstinacy is the real defect of his character, after all. He has been
+accused of many faults at different times, but _this_ is the true one.
+Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself; though I am sure (and
+I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say nothing about it), your
+uncle would most readily have settled the whole.
+
+“They battled it together for a long time, which was more than either
+the gentleman or lady concerned in it deserved. But at last your uncle
+was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use to his
+niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of it,
+which went sorely against the grain; and I really believe your letter
+this morning gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation
+that would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where
+it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no farther than yourself, or Jane
+at most.
+
+“You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young
+people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to considerably
+more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addition to her own
+settled upon _her_, and his commission purchased. The reason why all
+this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have given above. It
+was owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper consideration, that
+Wickham’s character had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he
+had been received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth
+in _this_; though I doubt whether _his_ reserve, or _anybody’s_ reserve,
+can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this fine talking,
+my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that your uncle would
+never have yielded, if we had not given him credit for _another
+interest_ in the affair.
+
+“When all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, who
+were still staying at Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in
+London once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters were
+then to receive the last finish.
+
+“I believe I have now told you every thing. It is a relation which
+you tell me is to give you great surprise; I hope at least it will not
+afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to us; and Wickham had constant
+admission to the house. _He_ was exactly what he had been, when I
+knew him in Hertfordshire; but I would not tell you how little I was
+satisfied with her behaviour while she staid with us, if I had not
+perceived, by Jane’s letter last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming
+home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what I now tell
+you can give you no fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most
+serious manner, representing to her all the wickedness of what she had
+done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she
+heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was
+sometimes quite provoked, but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and
+Jane, and for their sakes had patience with her.
+
+“Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and as Lydia informed you,
+attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, and was to leave
+town again on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my
+dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold
+enough to say before) how much I like him. His behaviour to us has,
+in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. His
+understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little
+more liveliness, and _that_, if he marry _prudently_, his wife may teach
+him. I thought him very sly;--he hardly ever mentioned your name. But
+slyness seems the fashion.
+
+“Pray forgive me if I have been very presuming, or at least do not
+punish me so far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy
+till I have been all round the park. A low phaeton, with a nice little
+pair of ponies, would be the very thing.
+
+“But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me this half
+hour.
+
+“Yours, very sincerely,
+
+“M. GARDINER.”
+
+The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits,
+in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the
+greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had
+produced of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her sister’s
+match, which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness too
+great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be just, from the
+pain of obligation, were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true!
+He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken on himself all
+the trouble and mortification attendant on such a research; in which
+supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and
+despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason
+with, persuade, and finally bribe, the man whom he always most wished to
+avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce. He had
+done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem. Her
+heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it was a hope shortly
+checked by other considerations, and she soon felt that even her vanity
+was insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her--for
+a woman who had already refused him--as able to overcome a sentiment so
+natural as abhorrence against relationship with Wickham. Brother-in-law
+of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. He had,
+to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think how much. But he had
+given a reason for his interference, which asked no extraordinary
+stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel he had been
+wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and
+though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, she
+could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for her might assist
+his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially
+concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they were
+under obligations to a person who could never receive a return. They
+owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, every thing, to him. Oh!
+how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever
+encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him. For
+herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud that in a cause
+of compassion and honour, he had been able to get the better of himself.
+She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and again. It
+was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible of some
+pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly both she
+and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted
+between Mr. Darcy and herself.
+
+She was roused from her seat, and her reflections, by some one’s
+approach; and before she could strike into another path, she was
+overtaken by Wickham.
+
+“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he,
+as he joined her.
+
+“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow
+that the interruption must be unwelcome.”
+
+“I should be sorry indeed, if it were. We were always good friends; and
+now we are better.”
+
+“True. Are the others coming out?”
+
+“I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to
+Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that
+you have actually seen Pemberley.”
+
+She replied in the affirmative.
+
+“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much
+for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the
+old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of
+me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”
+
+“Yes, she did.”
+
+“And what did she say?”
+
+“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had--not turned
+out well. At such a distance as _that_, you know, things are strangely
+misrepresented.”
+
+“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had
+silenced him; but he soon afterwards said:
+
+“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other
+several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”
+
+“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said
+Elizabeth. “It must be something particular, to take him there at this
+time of year.”
+
+“Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I
+understood from the Gardiners that you had.”
+
+“Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”
+
+“And do you like her?”
+
+“Very much.”
+
+“I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year
+or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad
+you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”
+
+“I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”
+
+“Did you go by the village of Kympton?”
+
+“I do not recollect that we did.”
+
+“I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to have had. A
+most delightful place!--Excellent Parsonage House! It would have suited
+me in every respect.”
+
+“How should you have liked making sermons?”
+
+“Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty,
+and the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to
+repine;--but, to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The
+quiet, the retirement of such a life would have answered all my ideas
+of happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the
+circumstance, when you were in Kent?”
+
+“I have heard from authority, which I thought _as good_, that it was
+left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”
+
+“You have. Yes, there was something in _that_; I told you so from the
+first, you may remember.”
+
+“I _did_ hear, too, that there was a time, when sermon-making was not
+so palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually
+declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business
+had been compromised accordingly.”
+
+“You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember
+what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”
+
+They were now almost at the door of the house, for she had walked fast
+to get rid of him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to provoke him,
+she only said in reply, with a good-humoured smile:
+
+“Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let
+us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one
+mind.”
+
+She held out her hand; he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, though
+he hardly knew how to look, and they entered the house.
+
+
+
+Chapter 53
+
+
+Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation that he
+never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth,
+by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she
+had said enough to keep him quiet.
+
+The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came, and Mrs. Bennet was
+forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means
+entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to
+continue at least a twelvemonth.
+
+“Oh! my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?”
+
+“Oh, lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.”
+
+“Write to me very often, my dear.”
+
+“As often as I can. But you know married women have never much time for
+writing. My sisters may write to _me_. They will have nothing else to
+do.”
+
+Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. He
+smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.
+
+“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of
+the house, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to
+us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas
+himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”
+
+The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days.
+
+“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with
+one’s friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”
+
+“This is the consequence, you see, Madam, of marrying a daughter,” said
+Elizabeth. “It must make you better satisfied that your other four are
+single.”
+
+“It is no such thing. Lydia does not leave me because she is married,
+but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. If
+that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.”
+
+But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly
+relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an
+article of news which then began to be in circulation. The housekeeper
+at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her
+master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several
+weeks. Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. She looked at Jane, and
+smiled and shook her head by turns.
+
+“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs.
+Phillips first brought her the news). “Well, so much the better. Not
+that I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am
+sure _I_ never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome
+to come to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what _may_ happen?
+But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to
+mention a word about it. And so, is it quite certain he is coming?”
+
+“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nicholls was in
+Meryton last night; I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose
+to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certain true. He
+comes down on Thursday at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She was
+going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on
+Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.”
+
+Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing
+colour. It was many months since she had mentioned his name to
+Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said:
+
+“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present
+report; and I know I appeared distressed. But don’t imagine it was from
+any silly cause. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that
+I _should_ be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect
+me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes
+alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of
+_myself_, but I dread other people’s remarks.”
+
+Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. Had she not seen him in
+Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no
+other view than what was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial
+to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming
+there _with_ his friend’s permission, or being bold enough to come
+without it.
+
+“Yet it is hard,” she sometimes thought, “that this poor man cannot
+come to a house which he has legally hired, without raising all this
+speculation! I _will_ leave him to himself.”
+
+In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her
+feelings in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily
+perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They were more disturbed,
+more unequal, than she had often seen them.
+
+The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents,
+about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.
+
+“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “you
+will wait on him of course.”
+
+“No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and promised, if I
+went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. But it ended in
+nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool’s errand again.”
+
+His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an attention
+would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to
+Netherfield.
+
+“‘Tis an etiquette I despise,” said he. “If he wants our society,
+let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not spend my hours
+in running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back
+again.”
+
+“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait
+on him. But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I
+am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. That will
+make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for
+him.”
+
+Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her
+husband’s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her
+neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before
+_they_ did. As the day of his arrival drew near,--
+
+“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,” said Jane to her sister. “It
+would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference, but I can
+hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. My mother means well;
+but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she
+says. Happy shall I be, when his stay at Netherfield is over!”
+
+“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,” replied Elizabeth; “but it
+is wholly out of my power. You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction
+of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have
+always so much.”
+
+Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants,
+contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety
+and fretfulness on her side might be as long as it could. She counted
+the days that must intervene before their invitation could be sent;
+hopeless of seeing him before. But on the third morning after his
+arrival in Hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressing-room window,
+enter the paddock and ride towards the house.
+
+Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane resolutely
+kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went
+to the window--she looked,--she saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down
+again by her sister.
+
+“There is a gentleman with him, mamma,” said Kitty; “who can it be?”
+
+“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not
+know.”
+
+“La!” replied Kitty, “it looks just like that man that used to be with
+him before. Mr. what’s-his-name. That tall, proud man.”
+
+“Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!--and so it does, I vow. Well, any friend of
+Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must
+say that I hate the very sight of him.”
+
+Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew but little
+of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness
+which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time
+after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable
+enough. Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their
+mother talked on, of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be
+civil to him only as Mr. Bingley’s friend, without being heard by either
+of them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which could not be
+suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to shew Mrs.
+Gardiner’s letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards him.
+To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused,
+and whose merit she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive
+information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted
+for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an
+interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just as
+what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming--at his
+coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again,
+was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered
+behaviour in Derbyshire.
+
+The colour which had been driven from her face, returned for half a
+minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to
+her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and
+wishes must still be unshaken. But she would not be secure.
+
+“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early
+enough for expectation.”
+
+She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to
+lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of
+her sister as the servant was approaching the door. Jane looked a little
+paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the
+gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with
+tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any
+symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.
+
+Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and sat down
+again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. She
+had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious, as usual; and,
+she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as
+she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps he could not in her mother’s
+presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, but
+not an improbable, conjecture.
+
+Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period
+saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs.
+Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed,
+especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of
+her curtsey and address to his friend.
+
+Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter
+the preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy,
+was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill
+applied.
+
+Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did, a question
+which she could not answer without confusion, said scarcely anything. He
+was not seated by her; perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but
+it had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends,
+when he could not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed without
+bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist
+the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often
+found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but
+the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when
+they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry
+with herself for being so.
+
+“Could I expect it to be otherwise!” said she. “Yet why did he come?”
+
+She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to
+him she had hardly courage to speak.
+
+She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.
+
+“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet.
+
+He readily agreed to it.
+
+“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People _did_ say
+you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope
+it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood,
+since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my
+own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have
+seen it in the papers. It was in The Times and The Courier, I know;
+though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately,
+George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a
+syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything.
+It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to
+make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”
+
+Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth
+dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could
+not tell.
+
+“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,”
+ continued her mother, “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very
+hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to
+Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay
+I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have
+heard of his leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the
+regulars. Thank Heaven! he has _some_ friends, though perhaps not so
+many as he deserves.”
+
+Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such
+misery of shame, that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her,
+however, the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually
+done before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in
+the country at present. A few weeks, he believed.
+
+“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother,
+“I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr.
+Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and
+will save all the best of the covies for you.”
+
+Elizabeth’s misery increased, at such unnecessary, such officious
+attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at present as had
+flattered them a year ago, every thing, she was persuaded, would be
+hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. At that instant, she felt
+that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for
+moments of such painful confusion.
+
+“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is never more to
+be in company with either of them. Their society can afford no pleasure
+that will atone for such wretchedness as this! Let me never see either
+one or the other again!”
+
+Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no
+compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from observing
+how much the beauty of her sister re-kindled the admiration of her
+former lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little;
+but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He
+found her as handsome as she had been last year; as good natured, and
+as unaffected, though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no
+difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded
+that she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so busily engaged,
+that she did not always know when she was silent.
+
+When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her
+intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at
+Longbourn in a few days time.
+
+“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added, “for when
+you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with
+us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure
+you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep
+your engagement.”
+
+Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of
+his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.
+
+Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine
+there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did
+not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man
+on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride
+of one who had ten thousand a year.
+
+
+
+Chapter 54
+
+
+As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits;
+or in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects that
+must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed her.
+
+“Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” said she,
+“did he come at all?”
+
+She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.
+
+“He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and aunt, when
+he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If
+he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will
+think no more about him.”
+
+Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach
+of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look, which showed her
+better satisfied with their visitors, than Elizabeth.
+
+“Now,” said she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly
+easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by
+his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly
+seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent
+acquaintance.”
+
+“Yes, very indifferent indeed,” said Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane,
+take care.”
+
+“My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger now?”
+
+“I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with
+you as ever.”
+
+ * * * * *
+
+They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in
+the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes, which the good
+humour and common politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s visit, had
+revived.
+
+On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn; and the two
+who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality
+as sportsmen, were in very good time. When they repaired to the
+dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take
+the place, which, in all their former parties, had belonged to him, by
+her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore
+to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to
+hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile: it was
+decided. He placed himself by her.
+
+Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend.
+He bore it with noble indifference, and she would have imagined that
+Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes
+likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing
+alarm.
+
+His behaviour to her sister was such, during dinner time, as showed an
+admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded
+Elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his
+own, would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon the
+consequence, she yet received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It
+gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in
+no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table
+could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little
+such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to
+advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse, but
+she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and
+cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness,
+made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind;
+and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell
+him that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of the
+family.
+
+She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of
+bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away
+without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation than
+the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious
+and uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing-room, before the
+gentlemen came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her
+uncivil. She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all
+her chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.
+
+“If he does not come to me, _then_,” said she, “I shall give him up for
+ever.”
+
+The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would have
+answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded round the table,
+where Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the coffee,
+in so close a confederacy that there was not a single vacancy near her
+which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, one of
+the girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper:
+
+“The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them;
+do we?”
+
+Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She followed him with
+her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, had scarcely patience enough
+to help anybody to coffee; and then was enraged against herself for
+being so silly!
+
+“A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to
+expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex, who would not
+protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman?
+There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings!”
+
+She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his coffee cup
+himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying:
+
+“Is your sister at Pemberley still?”
+
+“Yes, she will remain there till Christmas.”
+
+“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”
+
+“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough,
+these three weeks.”
+
+She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to converse
+with her, he might have better success. He stood by her, however, for
+some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on the young lady’s whispering
+to Elizabeth again, he walked away.
+
+When the tea-things were removed, and the card-tables placed, the ladies
+all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon joined by him,
+when all her views were overthrown by seeing him fall a victim to her
+mother’s rapacity for whist players, and in a few moments after seated
+with the rest of the party. She now lost every expectation of pleasure.
+They were confined for the evening at different tables, and she had
+nothing to hope, but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side
+of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.
+
+Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen to
+supper; but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any of the
+others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.
+
+“Well girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “What
+say you to the day? I think every thing has passed off uncommonly well,
+I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The
+venison was roasted to a turn--and everybody said they never saw so
+fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the
+Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges
+were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French
+cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater
+beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And
+what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her
+at Netherfield at last.’ She did indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good
+a creature as ever lived--and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls,
+and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits; she had seen enough of
+Bingley’s behaviour to Jane, to be convinced that she would get him at
+last; and her expectations of advantage to her family, when in a happy
+humour, were so far beyond reason, that she was quite disappointed at
+not seeing him there again the next day, to make his proposals.
+
+“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The
+party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we
+may often meet again.”
+
+Elizabeth smiled.
+
+“Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me.
+I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an
+agreeable and sensible young man, without having a wish beyond it. I am
+perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had
+any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed
+with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally
+pleasing, than any other man.”
+
+“You are very cruel,” said her sister, “you will not let me smile, and
+are provoking me to it every moment.”
+
+“How hard it is in some cases to be believed!”
+
+“And how impossible in others!”
+
+“But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I
+acknowledge?”
+
+“That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to
+instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive
+me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make me your confidante.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 55
+
+
+A few days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. His
+friend had left him that morning for London, but was to return home in
+ten days time. He sat with them above an hour, and was in remarkably
+good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; but, with many
+expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.
+
+“Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.”
+
+He should be particularly happy at any time, etc. etc.; and if she would
+give him leave, would take an early opportunity of waiting on them.
+
+“Can you come to-morrow?”
+
+Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her invitation was
+accepted with alacrity.
+
+He came, and in such very good time that the ladies were none of them
+dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughter’s room, in her dressing
+gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out:
+
+“My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come--Mr. Bingley is
+come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss
+Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss
+Lizzy’s hair.”
+
+“We will be down as soon as we can,” said Jane; “but I dare say Kitty is
+forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs half an hour ago.”
+
+“Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick, be quick!
+Where is your sash, my dear?”
+
+But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down
+without one of her sisters.
+
+The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the
+evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his
+custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of
+the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at
+Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without making any
+impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last
+Kitty did, she very innocently said, “What is the matter mamma? What do
+you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”
+
+“Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” She then sat still
+five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she
+suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, “Come here, my love, I want to
+speak to you,” took her out of the room. Jane instantly gave a look
+at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such premeditation, and her
+entreaty that _she_ would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs.
+Bennet half-opened the door and called out:
+
+“Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”
+
+Elizabeth was forced to go.
+
+“We may as well leave them by themselves you know;” said her mother, as
+soon as she was in the hall. “Kitty and I are going up stairs to sit in
+my dressing-room.”
+
+Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained
+quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were out of sight, then returned
+into the drawing-room.
+
+Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was every
+thing that was charming, except the professed lover of her daughter. His
+ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable addition to their
+evening party; and he bore with the ill-judged officiousness of the
+mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a forbearance and command
+of countenance particularly grateful to the daughter.
+
+He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he went
+away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs.
+Bennet’s means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband.
+
+After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. Not a word passed
+between the sisters concerning Bingley; but Elizabeth went to bed in
+the happy belief that all must speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy
+returned within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably
+persuaded that all this must have taken place with that gentleman’s
+concurrence.
+
+Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet spent
+the morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter was much more
+agreeable than his companion expected. There was nothing of presumption
+or folly in Bingley that could provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into
+silence; and he was more communicative, and less eccentric, than the
+other had ever seen him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner;
+and in the evening Mrs. Bennet’s invention was again at work to get
+every body away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter
+to write, went into the breakfast room for that purpose soon after tea;
+for as the others were all going to sit down to cards, she could not be
+wanted to counteract her mother’s schemes.
+
+But on returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was finished, she
+saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her mother
+had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she perceived her
+sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in
+earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, the faces of
+both, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each other, would
+have told it all. Their situation was awkward enough; but _hers_ she
+thought was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by either; and
+Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when Bingley, who as
+well as the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few
+words to her sister, ran out of the room.
+
+Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence would give
+pleasure; and instantly embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest
+emotion, that she was the happiest creature in the world.
+
+“‘Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh!
+why is not everybody as happy?”
+
+Elizabeth’s congratulations were given with a sincerity, a warmth,
+a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every sentence of
+kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane. But she would not
+allow herself to stay with her sister, or say half that remained to be
+said for the present.
+
+“I must go instantly to my mother;” she cried. “I would not on any
+account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow her to hear it
+from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh! Lizzy, to
+know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear
+family! how shall I bear so much happiness!”
+
+She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken up the
+card party, and was sitting up stairs with Kitty.
+
+Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity and ease
+with which an affair was finally settled, that had given them so many
+previous months of suspense and vexation.
+
+“And this,” said she, “is the end of all his friend’s anxious
+circumspection! of all his sister’s falsehood and contrivance! the
+happiest, wisest, most reasonable end!”
+
+In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference with her
+father had been short and to the purpose.
+
+“Where is your sister?” said he hastily, as he opened the door.
+
+“With my mother up stairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.”
+
+He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good wishes
+and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and heartily expressed
+her delight in the prospect of their relationship. They shook hands with
+great cordiality; and then, till her sister came down, she had to listen
+to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane’s perfections;
+and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed all his
+expectations of felicity to be rationally founded, because they had for
+basis the excellent understanding, and super-excellent disposition of
+Jane, and a general similarity of feeling and taste between her and
+himself.
+
+It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the satisfaction of
+Miss Bennet’s mind gave a glow of such sweet animation to her face, as
+made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped
+her turn was coming soon. Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent or
+speak her approbation in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings,
+though she talked to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when
+Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed
+how really happy he was.
+
+Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till their
+visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he was gone, he
+turned to his daughter, and said:
+
+“Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.”
+
+Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his
+goodness.
+
+“You are a good girl;” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in
+thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your
+doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are
+each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so
+easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will
+always exceed your income.”
+
+“I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be
+unpardonable in me.”
+
+“Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,” cried his wife, “what are you
+talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely
+more.” Then addressing her daughter, “Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so
+happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it
+would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not
+be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when
+he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was
+that you should come together. Oh! he is the handsomest young man that
+ever was seen!”
+
+Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond competition her
+favourite child. At that moment, she cared for no other. Her younger
+sisters soon began to make interest with her for objects of happiness
+which she might in future be able to dispense.
+
+Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and Kitty
+begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.
+
+Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at Longbourn;
+coming frequently before breakfast, and always remaining till after
+supper; unless when some barbarous neighbour, who could not be enough
+detested, had given him an invitation to dinner which he thought himself
+obliged to accept.
+
+Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her sister; for
+while he was present, Jane had no attention to bestow on anyone else;
+but she found herself considerably useful to both of them in those hours
+of separation that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he
+always attached himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure of talking of
+her; and when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means of
+relief.
+
+“He has made me so happy,” said she, one evening, “by telling me that he
+was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed
+it possible.”
+
+“I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for
+it?”
+
+“It must have been his sister’s doing. They were certainly no friends to
+his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have
+chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see,
+as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will
+learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again; though we
+can never be what we once were to each other.”
+
+“That is the most unforgiving speech,” said Elizabeth, “that I ever
+heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again
+the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.”
+
+“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November,
+he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of _my_ being
+indifferent would have prevented his coming down again!”
+
+“He made a little mistake to be sure; but it is to the credit of his
+modesty.”
+
+This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and
+the little value he put on his own good qualities. Elizabeth was pleased
+to find that he had not betrayed the interference of his friend; for,
+though Jane had the most generous and forgiving heart in the world, she
+knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice her against him.
+
+“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried
+Jane. “Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed
+above them all! If I could but see _you_ as happy! If there _were_ but
+such another man for you!”
+
+“If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as
+you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your
+happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very
+good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.”
+
+The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be long a
+secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Phillips,
+and she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all her
+neighbours in Meryton.
+
+The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the
+world, though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away,
+they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune.
+
+
+
+Chapter 56
+
+
+One morning, about a week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been
+formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the
+dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window, by the
+sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up
+the lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, the
+equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses
+were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who
+preceded it, were familiar to them. As it was certain, however, that
+somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid
+the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the
+shrubbery. They both set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three
+continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown
+open and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
+
+They were of course all intending to be surprised; but their
+astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of Mrs.
+Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even
+inferior to what Elizabeth felt.
+
+She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no
+other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the
+head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her
+name to her mother on her ladyship’s entrance, though no request of
+introduction had been made.
+
+Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such
+high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting
+for a moment in silence, she said very stiffly to Elizabeth,
+
+“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your
+mother.”
+
+Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.
+
+“And _that_ I suppose is one of your sisters.”
+
+“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to Lady Catherine.
+“She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married,
+and my eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man
+who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.”
+
+“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine after a short
+silence.
+
+“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say; but I
+assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”
+
+“This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in
+summer; the windows are full west.”
+
+Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner, and then
+added:
+
+“May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you left Mr. and
+Mrs. Collins well.”
+
+“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”
+
+Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from
+Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no
+letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled.
+
+Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship to take some
+refreshment; but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely,
+declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,
+
+“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness
+on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you
+will favour me with your company.”
+
+“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her ladyship about the
+different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”
+
+Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for her parasol,
+attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the
+hall, Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and
+drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be decent
+looking rooms, walked on.
+
+Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her
+waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk
+that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for
+conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and
+disagreeable.
+
+“How could I ever think her like her nephew?” said she, as she looked in
+her face.
+
+As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following
+manner:--
+
+“You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my
+journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I
+come.”
+
+Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.
+
+“Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account
+for the honour of seeing you here.”
+
+“Miss Bennet,” replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to
+know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere _you_ may
+choose to be, you shall not find _me_ so. My character has ever been
+celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such
+moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most
+alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your
+sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that
+you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon
+afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I
+_know_ it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him
+so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved
+on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to
+you.”
+
+“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, colouring
+with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming
+so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?”
+
+“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”
+
+“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth
+coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report
+is in existence.”
+
+“If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been
+industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a
+report is spread abroad?”
+
+“I never heard that it was.”
+
+“And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?”
+
+“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may
+ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.”
+
+“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has
+he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”
+
+“Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”
+
+“It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his
+reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation,
+have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You
+may have drawn him in.”
+
+“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”
+
+“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such
+language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world,
+and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”
+
+“But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this,
+ever induce me to be explicit.”
+
+“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the
+presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is
+engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”
+
+“Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will
+make an offer to me.”
+
+Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied:
+
+“The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy,
+they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of
+_his_ mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles, we planned
+the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would
+be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of
+inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to
+the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his
+tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of
+propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest
+hours he was destined for his cousin?”
+
+“Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is
+no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not
+be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to
+marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the
+marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither
+by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make
+another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”
+
+“Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes,
+Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or
+friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will
+be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him.
+Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned
+by any of us.”
+
+“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr.
+Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily
+attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause
+to repine.”
+
+“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude
+for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that
+score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came
+here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will
+I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s
+whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”
+
+“_That_ will make your ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable;
+but it will have no effect on me.”
+
+“I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter and my
+nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal
+side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable,
+honourable, and ancient--though untitled--families. Their fortune on
+both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of
+every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them?
+The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections,
+or fortune. Is this to be endured! But it must not, shall not be. If you
+were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in
+which you have been brought up.”
+
+“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that
+sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are
+equal.”
+
+“True. You _are_ a gentleman’s daughter. But who was your mother?
+Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their
+condition.”
+
+“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does
+not object to them, they can be nothing to _you_.”
+
+“Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?”
+
+Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady
+Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a
+moment’s deliberation:
+
+“I am not.”
+
+Lady Catherine seemed pleased.
+
+“And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?”
+
+“I will make no promise of the kind.”
+
+“Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more
+reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that
+I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the
+assurance I require.”
+
+“And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into
+anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry
+your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make their
+marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would
+my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin?
+Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have
+supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the
+application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if
+you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your
+nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell;
+but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg,
+therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject.”
+
+“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the
+objections I have already urged, I have still another to add. I am
+no stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous
+elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a
+patched-up business, at the expence of your father and uncles. And is
+such a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is her husband, is the son of his
+late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!--of what are
+you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”
+
+“You can now have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered.
+“You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg to return to
+the house.”
+
+And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned
+back. Her ladyship was highly incensed.
+
+“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew!
+Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you
+must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”
+
+“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”
+
+“You are then resolved to have him?”
+
+“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner,
+which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without
+reference to _you_, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”
+
+“It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the
+claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in
+the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”
+
+“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “have any
+possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either
+would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the
+resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former
+_were_ excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s
+concern--and the world in general would have too much sense to join in
+the scorn.”
+
+“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well.
+I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your
+ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you
+reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point.”
+
+In this manner Lady Catherine talked on, till they were at the door of
+the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added, “I take no leave
+of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve
+no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”
+
+Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her
+ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She
+heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded up stairs. Her mother
+impatiently met her at the door of the dressing-room, to ask why Lady
+Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.
+
+“She did not choose it,” said her daughter, “she would go.”
+
+“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously
+civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were
+well. She is on her road somewhere, I dare say, and so, passing through
+Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had
+nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”
+
+Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood here; for to
+acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible.
+
+
+
+Chapter 57
+
+
+The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw
+Elizabeth into, could not be easily overcome; nor could she, for many
+hours, learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it
+appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings,
+for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr.
+Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report
+of their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine;
+till she recollected that _his_ being the intimate friend of Bingley,
+and _her_ being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the
+expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply
+the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her
+sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours
+at Lucas Lodge, therefore (for through their communication with the
+Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine), had
+only set that down as almost certain and immediate, which she had looked
+forward to as possible at some future time.
+
+In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help
+feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting
+in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to
+prevent their marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate
+an application to her nephew; and how _he_ might take a similar
+representation of the evils attached to a connection with her, she dared
+not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his
+aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose
+that he thought much higher of her ladyship than _she_ could do; and it
+was certain that, in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with _one_,
+whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would
+address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would
+probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak
+and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.
+
+If he had been wavering before as to what he should do, which had often
+seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might
+settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity
+unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady
+Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to
+Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.
+
+“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his
+friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand
+it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his
+constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might
+have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him
+at all.”
+
+ * * * * *
+
+The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had
+been, was very great; but they obligingly satisfied it, with the same
+kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and
+Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.
+
+The next morning, as she was going downstairs, she was met by her
+father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.
+
+“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you; come into my room.”
+
+She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to
+tell her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner
+connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it
+might be from Lady Catherine; and she anticipated with dismay all the
+consequent explanations.
+
+She followed her father to the fire place, and they both sat down. He
+then said,
+
+“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me
+exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its
+contents. I did not know before, that I had two daughters on the brink
+of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”
+
+The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous
+conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt;
+and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained
+himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to
+herself; when her father continued:
+
+“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters
+as these; but I think I may defy even _your_ sagacity, to discover the
+name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”
+
+“From Mr. Collins! and what can _he_ have to say?”
+
+“Something very much to the purpose of course. He begins with
+congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of
+which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping
+Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience, by reading what he says
+on that point. What relates to yourself, is as follows: ‘Having thus
+offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on
+this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another;
+of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter
+Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after
+her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate may
+be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages in
+this land.’
+
+“Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this? ‘This young
+gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with every thing the heart of
+mortal can most desire,--splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive
+patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me warn my cousin
+Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate
+closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course, you will be
+inclined to take immediate advantage of.’
+
+“Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out:
+
+“‘My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have reason to imagine
+that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with
+a friendly eye.’
+
+“_Mr. Darcy_, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I _have_
+surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man within
+the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie
+more effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any
+woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his
+life! It is admirable!”
+
+Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force
+one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so
+little agreeable to her.
+
+“Are you not diverted?”
+
+“Oh! yes. Pray read on.”
+
+“‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last
+night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she
+felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that on the score of some
+family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her
+consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty
+to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and
+her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run
+hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr.
+Collins moreover adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad
+business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their
+living together before the marriage took place should be so generally
+known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain
+from declaring my amazement at hearing that you received the young
+couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an
+encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should
+very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them,
+as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their
+names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ That is his notion of Christian
+forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte’s
+situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you
+look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be _missish_,
+I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what do we
+live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our
+turn?”
+
+“Oh!” cried Elizabeth, “I am excessively diverted. But it is so
+strange!”
+
+“Yes--_that_ is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man
+it would have been nothing; but _his_ perfect indifference, and _your_
+pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate
+writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any
+consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving
+him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and
+hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine
+about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”
+
+To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had
+been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by
+his repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her
+feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh, when she
+would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by
+what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference, and she could do nothing but
+wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that perhaps, instead of
+his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much.
+
+
+
+Chapter 58
+
+
+Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as
+Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy
+with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s
+visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time
+to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat
+in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed
+their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the
+habit of walking; Mary could never spare time; but the remaining five
+set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others
+to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy
+were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty
+was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a
+desperate resolution; and perhaps he might be doing the same.
+
+They walked towards the Lucases, because Kitty wished to call upon
+Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern,
+when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the
+moment for her resolution to be executed, and, while her courage was
+high, she immediately said:
+
+“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving
+relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours. I
+can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my
+poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to
+acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest
+of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”
+
+“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise
+and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a
+mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner
+was so little to be trusted.”
+
+“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to
+me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could
+not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again,
+in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced
+you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the
+sake of discovering them.”
+
+“If you _will_ thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone.
+That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other
+inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your
+_family_ owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought
+only of _you_.”
+
+Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause,
+her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your
+feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. _My_
+affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence
+me on this subject for ever.”
+
+Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of
+his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not
+very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone
+so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make
+her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The
+happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never
+felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as
+warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth
+been able to encounter his eye, she might have seen how well the
+expression of heartfelt delight, diffused over his face, became him;
+but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of
+feelings, which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his
+affection every moment more valuable.
+
+They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to
+be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She
+soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding
+to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through
+London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the
+substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on
+every expression of the latter which, in her ladyship’s apprehension,
+peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance; in the belief that
+such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise
+from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her
+ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise.
+
+“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself
+to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that,
+had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have
+acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”
+
+Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough
+of my frankness to believe me capable of _that_. After abusing you so
+abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all
+your relations.”
+
+“What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though your
+accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my
+behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was
+unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”
+
+“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that
+evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined,
+will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved
+in civility.”
+
+“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I
+then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of
+it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your
+reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘had you behaved in a
+more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can
+scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;--though it was some time,
+I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”
+
+“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an
+impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such
+a way.”
+
+“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper
+feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never
+forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible
+way that would induce you to accept me.”
+
+“Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at
+all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”
+
+Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he, “did it soon make you
+think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its
+contents?”
+
+She explained what its effect on her had been, and how gradually all her
+former prejudices had been removed.
+
+“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was
+necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part
+especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the
+power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might
+justly make you hate me.”
+
+“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the
+preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my
+opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily
+changed as that implies.”
+
+“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly
+calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was written in a
+dreadful bitterness of spirit.”
+
+“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The
+adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings
+of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now
+so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant
+circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some
+of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you
+pleasure.”
+
+“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your
+retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment
+arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of
+innocence. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude
+which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish
+being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I
+was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I
+was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit.
+Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt
+by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all
+that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught
+me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family
+circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least
+to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I
+was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been
+but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You
+taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you,
+I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception.
+You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman
+worthy of being pleased.”
+
+“Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?”
+
+“Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be
+wishing, expecting my addresses.”
+
+“My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure
+you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me
+wrong. How you must have hated me after _that_ evening?”
+
+“Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon began to take
+a proper direction.”
+
+“I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met at
+Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”
+
+“No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise.”
+
+“Your surprise could not be greater than _mine_ in being noticed by you.
+My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I
+confess that I did not expect to receive _more_ than my due.”
+
+“My object then,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility in
+my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to
+obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you
+see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes
+introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an
+hour after I had seen you.”
+
+He then told her of Georgiana’s delight in her acquaintance, and of her
+disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally leading to
+the cause of that interruption, she soon learnt that his resolution of
+following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been formed
+before he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness
+there had arisen from no other struggles than what such a purpose must
+comprehend.
+
+She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to
+each, to be dwelt on farther.
+
+After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know
+anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that
+it was time to be at home.
+
+“What could become of Mr. Bingley and Jane!” was a wonder which
+introduced the discussion of their affairs. Darcy was delighted with
+their engagement; his friend had given him the earliest information of
+it.
+
+“I must ask whether you were surprised?” said Elizabeth.
+
+“Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.”
+
+“That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And
+though he exclaimed at the term, she found that it had been pretty much
+the case.
+
+“On the evening before my going to London,” said he, “I made a
+confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I
+told him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his
+affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had
+the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself
+mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent
+to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was
+unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.”
+
+Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his
+friend.
+
+“Did you speak from your own observation,” said she, “when you told him
+that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?”
+
+“From the former. I had narrowly observed her during the two visits
+which I had lately made here; and I was convinced of her affection.”
+
+“And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to
+him.”
+
+“It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had
+prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but
+his reliance on mine made every thing easy. I was obliged to confess
+one thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not
+allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months
+last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was
+angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained
+in any doubt of your sister’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me
+now.”
+
+Elizabeth longed to observe that Mr. Bingley had been a most delightful
+friend; so easily guided that his worth was invaluable; but she checked
+herself. She remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at,
+and it was rather too early to begin. In anticipating the happiness
+of Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he
+continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they
+parted.
+
+
+
+Chapter 59
+
+
+“My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?” was a question
+which Elizabeth received from Jane as soon as she entered their room,
+and from all the others when they sat down to table. She had only to
+say in reply, that they had wandered about, till she was beyond her own
+knowledge. She coloured as she spoke; but neither that, nor anything
+else, awakened a suspicion of the truth.
+
+The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. The
+acknowledged lovers talked and laughed, the unacknowledged were silent.
+Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth;
+and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather _knew_ that she was happy
+than _felt_ herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment,
+there were other evils before her. She anticipated what would be felt
+in the family when her situation became known; she was aware that no
+one liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a
+dislike which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.
+
+At night she opened her heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very far
+from Miss Bennet’s general habits, she was absolutely incredulous here.
+
+“You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be!--engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no,
+you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible.”
+
+“This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence was on you; and
+I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I am
+in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we are
+engaged.”
+
+Jane looked at her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much
+you dislike him.”
+
+“You know nothing of the matter. _That_ is all to be forgot. Perhaps I
+did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as
+these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever
+remember it myself.”
+
+Miss Bennet still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and more
+seriously assured her of its truth.
+
+“Good Heaven! can it be really so! Yet now I must believe you,” cried
+Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would--I do congratulate you--but are you
+certain? forgive the question--are you quite certain that you can be
+happy with him?”
+
+“There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already, that
+we are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased,
+Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?”
+
+“Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more
+delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you
+really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than
+marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought
+to do?”
+
+“Oh, yes! You will only think I feel _more_ than I ought to do, when I
+tell you all.”
+
+“What do you mean?”
+
+“Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am
+afraid you will be angry.”
+
+“My dearest sister, now _be_ serious. I want to talk very seriously. Let
+me know every thing that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me
+how long you have loved him?”
+
+“It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began.
+But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds
+at Pemberley.”
+
+Another entreaty that she would be serious, however, produced the
+desired effect; and she soon satisfied Jane by her solemn assurances
+of attachment. When convinced on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing
+further to wish.
+
+“Now I am quite happy,” said she, “for you will be as happy as myself.
+I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you,
+I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your
+husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But
+Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you
+tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know
+of it to another, not to you.”
+
+Elizabeth told her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling
+to mention Bingley; and the unsettled state of her own feelings had made
+her equally avoid the name of his friend. But now she would no longer
+conceal from her his share in Lydia’s marriage. All was acknowledged,
+and half the night spent in conversation.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+“Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next
+morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with
+our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always
+coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or
+other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him?
+Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley’s
+way.”
+
+Elizabeth could hardly help laughing at so convenient a proposal; yet
+was really vexed that her mother should be always giving him such an
+epithet.
+
+As soon as they entered, Bingley looked at her so expressively, and
+shook hands with such warmth, as left no doubt of his good information;
+and he soon afterwards said aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes
+hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?”
+
+“I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” said Mrs. Bennet, “to walk
+to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has
+never seen the view.”
+
+“It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley; “but I am
+sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?” Kitty owned that
+she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great curiosity to see
+the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. As she went
+up stairs to get ready, Mrs. Bennet followed her, saying:
+
+“I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that
+disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind it: it is
+all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking
+to him, except just now and then. So, do not put yourself to
+inconvenience.”
+
+During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be
+asked in the course of the evening. Elizabeth reserved to herself the
+application for her mother’s. She could not determine how her mother
+would take it; sometimes doubting whether all his wealth and grandeur
+would be enough to overcome her abhorrence of the man. But whether she
+were violently set against the match, or violently delighted with it, it
+was certain that her manner would be equally ill adapted to do credit
+to her sense; and she could no more bear that Mr. Darcy should hear
+the first raptures of her joy, than the first vehemence of her
+disapprobation.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+In the evening, soon after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she saw
+Mr. Darcy rise also and follow him, and her agitation on seeing it was
+extreme. She did not fear her father’s opposition, but he was going to
+be made unhappy; and that it should be through her means--that _she_,
+his favourite child, should be distressing him by her choice, should be
+filling him with fears and regrets in disposing of her--was a wretched
+reflection, and she sat in misery till Mr. Darcy appeared again, when,
+looking at him, she was a little relieved by his smile. In a few minutes
+he approached the table where she was sitting with Kitty; and, while
+pretending to admire her work said in a whisper, “Go to your father, he
+wants you in the library.” She was gone directly.
+
+Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious.
+“Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be
+accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”
+
+How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more
+reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from
+explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give;
+but they were now necessary, and she assured him, with some confusion,
+of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.
+
+“Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be
+sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane.
+But will they make you happy?”
+
+“Have you any other objection,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my
+indifference?”
+
+“None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but
+this would be nothing if you really liked him.”
+
+“I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes, “I love him.
+Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not
+know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in
+such terms.”
+
+“Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind
+of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he
+condescended to ask. I now give it to _you_, if you are resolved on
+having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know
+your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor
+respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked
+up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the
+greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape
+discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing
+_you_ unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are
+about.”
+
+Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and
+at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object
+of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of
+him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection
+was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months’
+suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did
+conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.
+
+“Well, my dear,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to
+say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with
+you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”
+
+To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Mr. Darcy
+had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment.
+
+“This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did every thing;
+made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him
+his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble
+and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and _would_ have
+paid him; but these violent young lovers carry every thing their own
+way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow; he will rant and storm about
+his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.”
+
+He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before, on his reading
+Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her
+at last to go--saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come
+for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”
+
+Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight; and, after
+half an hour’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join
+the others with tolerable composure. Every thing was too recent for
+gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer
+anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity
+would come in time.
+
+When her mother went up to her dressing-room at night, she followed her,
+and made the important communication. Its effect was most extraordinary;
+for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to
+utter a syllable. Nor was it under many, many minutes that she could
+comprehend what she heard; though not in general backward to credit
+what was for the advantage of her family, or that came in the shape of a
+lover to any of them. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in
+her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.
+
+“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would
+have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich
+and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages
+you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it--nothing at all. I am so
+pleased--so happy. Such a charming man!--so handsome! so tall!--Oh, my
+dear Lizzy! pray apologise for my having disliked him so much before. I
+hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing
+that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh,
+Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted.”
+
+This was enough to prove that her approbation need not be doubted: and
+Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard only by herself,
+soon went away. But before she had been three minutes in her own room,
+her mother followed her.
+
+“My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else! Ten
+thousand a year, and very likely more! ‘Tis as good as a Lord! And a
+special licence. You must and shall be married by a special licence. But
+my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of,
+that I may have it to-morrow.”
+
+This was a sad omen of what her mother’s behaviour to the gentleman
+himself might be; and Elizabeth found that, though in the certain
+possession of his warmest affection, and secure of her relations’
+consent, there was still something to be wished for. But the morrow
+passed off much better than she expected; for Mrs. Bennet luckily stood
+in such awe of her intended son-in-law that she ventured not to speak to
+him, unless it was in her power to offer him any attention, or mark her
+deference for his opinion.
+
+Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get
+acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet soon assured her that he was rising
+every hour in his esteem.
+
+“I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” said he. “Wickham, perhaps,
+is my favourite; but I think I shall like _your_ husband quite as well
+as Jane’s.”
+
+
+
+Chapter 60
+
+
+Elizabeth’s spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr.
+Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. “How could
+you begin?” said she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when
+you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first
+place?”
+
+“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which
+laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I
+knew that I _had_ begun.”
+
+“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behaviour
+to _you_ was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke
+to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere;
+did you admire me for my impertinence?”
+
+“For the liveliness of your mind, I did.”
+
+“You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less.
+The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious
+attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking,
+and looking, and thinking for _your_ approbation alone. I roused, and
+interested you, because I was so unlike _them_. Had you not been really
+amiable, you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you
+took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and
+in your heart, you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously
+courted you. There--I have saved you the trouble of accounting for
+it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly
+reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me--but nobody thinks
+of _that_ when they fall in love.”
+
+“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane while she was
+ill at Netherfield?”
+
+“Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it
+by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are
+to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me
+to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may
+be; and I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling
+to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first
+called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did
+you look as if you did not care about me?”
+
+“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”
+
+“But I was embarrassed.”
+
+“And so was I.”
+
+“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”
+
+“A man who had felt less, might.”
+
+“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that
+I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you
+_would_ have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when
+you _would_ have spoken, if I had not asked you! My resolution of
+thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect.
+_Too much_, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort
+springs from a breach of promise? for I ought not to have mentioned the
+subject. This will never do.”
+
+“You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady
+Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of
+removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to
+your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour
+to wait for any opening of yours. My aunt’s intelligence had given me
+hope, and I was determined at once to know every thing.”
+
+“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy,
+for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to
+Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed?
+or had you intended any more serious consequence?”
+
+“My real purpose was to see _you_, and to judge, if I could, whether I
+might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to
+myself, was to see whether your sister were still partial to Bingley,
+and if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.”
+
+“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to
+befall her?”
+
+“I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth. But it
+ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be
+done directly.”
+
+“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and
+admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But
+I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”
+
+From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy
+had been over-rated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s
+long letter; but now, having _that_ to communicate which she knew would
+be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and
+aunt had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as
+follows:
+
+“I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done,
+for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail of particulars; but to say the
+truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed.
+But _now_ suppose as much as you choose; give a loose rein to your
+fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the
+subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you
+cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a
+great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again,
+for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your
+idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I
+am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so
+before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she
+only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that
+he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas.
+Yours, etc.”
+
+Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style; and still
+different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in reply
+to his last.
+
+“DEAR SIR,
+
+“I must trouble you once more for congratulations. Elizabeth will soon
+be the wife of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine as well as you can.
+But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. He has more to give.
+
+“Yours sincerely, etc.”
+
+Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother, on his approaching
+marriage, were all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even
+to Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her
+former professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, but she was
+affected; and though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing
+her a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.
+
+The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information,
+was as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper were
+insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of
+being loved by her sister.
+
+Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations
+to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the
+Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The reason of this
+sudden removal was soon evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered
+so exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that
+Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till
+the storm was blown over. At such a moment, the arrival of her friend
+was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their
+meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she
+saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of
+her husband. He bore it, however, with admirable calmness. He could even
+listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away
+the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all
+meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. If he did
+shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.
+
+Mrs. Phillips’s vulgarity was another, and perhaps a greater, tax on his
+forbearance; and though Mrs. Phillips, as well as her sister, stood in
+too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s good
+humour encouraged, yet, whenever she _did_ speak, she must be vulgar.
+Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all
+likely to make her more elegant. Elizabeth did all she could to shield
+him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep
+him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse
+without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising
+from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it
+added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to
+the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing
+to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at
+Pemberley.
+
+
+
+Chapter 61
+
+
+Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got
+rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride
+she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may
+be guessed. I wish I could say, for the sake of her family, that the
+accomplishment of her earnest desire in the establishment of so many
+of her children produced so happy an effect as to make her a sensible,
+amiable, well-informed woman for the rest of her life; though perhaps it
+was lucky for her husband, who might not have relished domestic felicity
+in so unusual a form, that she still was occasionally nervous and
+invariably silly.
+
+Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her
+drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in
+going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected.
+
+Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield only a twelvemonth. So near
+a vicinity to her mother and Meryton relations was not desirable even to
+_his_ easy temper, or _her_ affectionate heart. The darling wish of his
+sisters was then gratified; he bought an estate in a neighbouring county
+to Derbyshire, and Jane and Elizabeth, in addition to every other source
+of happiness, were within thirty miles of each other.
+
+Kitty, to her very material advantage, spent the chief of her time with
+her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had generally
+known, her improvement was great. She was not of so ungovernable a
+temper as Lydia; and, removed from the influence of Lydia’s example,
+she became, by proper attention and management, less irritable, less
+ignorant, and less insipid. From the further disadvantage of Lydia’s
+society she was of course carefully kept, and though Mrs. Wickham
+frequently invited her to come and stay with her, with the promise of
+balls and young men, her father would never consent to her going.
+
+Mary was the only daughter who remained at home; and she was necessarily
+drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being quite
+unable to sit alone. Mary was obliged to mix more with the world, but
+she could still moralize over every morning visit; and as she was no
+longer mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ beauty and her own,
+it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change without
+much reluctance.
+
+As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no revolution from
+the marriage of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that
+Elizabeth must now become acquainted with whatever of his ingratitude
+and falsehood had before been unknown to her; and in spite of every
+thing, was not wholly without hope that Darcy might yet be prevailed on
+to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which Elizabeth received
+from Lydia on her marriage, explained to her that, by his wife at least,
+if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The letter was to this
+effect:
+
+“MY DEAR LIZZY,
+
+“I wish you joy. If you love Mr. Darcy half as well as I do my dear
+Wickham, you must be very happy. It is a great comfort to have you so
+rich, and when you have nothing else to do, I hope you will think of us.
+I am sure Wickham would like a place at court very much, and I do not
+think we shall have quite money enough to live upon without some help.
+Any place would do, of about three or four hundred a year; but however,
+do not speak to Mr. Darcy about it, if you had rather not.
+
+“Yours, etc.”
+
+As it happened that Elizabeth had _much_ rather not, she endeavoured in
+her answer to put an end to every entreaty and expectation of the kind.
+Such relief, however, as it was in her power to afford, by the practice
+of what might be called economy in her own private expences, she
+frequently sent them. It had always been evident to her that such an
+income as theirs, under the direction of two persons so extravagant in
+their wants, and heedless of the future, must be very insufficient to
+their support; and whenever they changed their quarters, either Jane or
+herself were sure of being applied to for some little assistance
+towards discharging their bills. Their manner of living, even when the
+restoration of peace dismissed them to a home, was unsettled in the
+extreme. They were always moving from place to place in quest of a cheap
+situation, and always spending more than they ought. His affection for
+her soon sunk into indifference; hers lasted a little longer; and
+in spite of her youth and her manners, she retained all the claims to
+reputation which her marriage had given her.
+
+Though Darcy could never receive _him_ at Pemberley, yet, for
+Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him further in his profession. Lydia was
+occasionally a visitor there, when her husband was gone to enjoy himself
+in London or Bath; and with the Bingleys they both of them frequently
+staid so long, that even Bingley’s good humour was overcome, and he
+proceeded so far as to talk of giving them a hint to be gone.
+
+Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; but as she
+thought it advisable to retain the right of visiting at Pemberley, she
+dropt all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, almost as
+attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off every arrear of civility
+to Elizabeth.
+
+Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home; and the attachment of the sisters
+was exactly what Darcy had hoped to see. They were able to love each
+other even as well as they intended. Georgiana had the highest opinion
+in the world of Elizabeth; though at first she often listened with
+an astonishment bordering on alarm at her lively, sportive, manner of
+talking to her brother. He, who had always inspired in herself a respect
+which almost overcame her affection, she now saw the object of open
+pleasantry. Her mind received knowledge which had never before fallen
+in her way. By Elizabeth’s instructions, she began to comprehend that
+a woman may take liberties with her husband which a brother will not
+always allow in a sister more than ten years younger than himself.
+
+Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew;
+and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character in
+her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him
+language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time
+all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion,
+he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation;
+and, after a little further resistance on the part of his aunt, her
+resentment gave way, either to her affection for him, or her curiosity
+to see how his wife conducted herself; and she condescended to wait
+on them at Pemberley, in spite of that pollution which its woods had
+received, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, but the
+visits of her uncle and aunt from the city.
+
+With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate terms.
+Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever
+sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing
+her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.
+
+
+
+
+
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