by Austen, Jane
33. event: outcome, result.
34. The Gardiners would be especially likely to believe that his main interest in the affair was Elizabeth, since Darcy has not told them the details about Wickham's earlier misdeeds and thus explained the exact reason why he might blame himself for Wickham's ability to prey on Lydia.
35. relation: account, relation of events.
36. understanding: intellect.
37. wants: lacks, needs.
38. That is, marry Elizabeth. Mrs. Gardiner seconds Elizabeth in identifying greater liveliness as a principal benefit the latter could impart to Darcy. Mrs. Gardiner's use of “prudently” contains an irony, which she probably intends, for prudent, in relation to marriage, generally meant a marriage that was financially advantageous. That is how Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth had used the term earlier when discussing marriage (see pp. 266 and 282). Here, however, it means something very different, for Darcy, in marrying Elizabeth, would be acting not at all prudently in a financial sense, but only prudently in other ways.
39. sly: secretive.
40. P: Pemberley. She may abbreviate it because she does not want to seem presumptuous in her visions of Elizabeth's future.
41. In their earlier visit to Pemberley the Gardiners and Elizabeth took the shorter, more accustomed route that did not go around the entire park or grounds.
42. low phaeton: a phaeton carriage that is low to the ground (see p. 293, note 27, and illustration on p. 291). Mrs. Gardiner showed before that she was a weak walker, so a carriage would allow her to see much more of Pemberley, with an open carriage like a phaeton being especially good for that purpose. The greater steadiness of a low carriage would also suit her if, as her weakness as a walker implies, she is not robust physically.
43. That is, she feared to encourage a hope that could be dashed.
44. pain of obligation: pain of being in such a state of obligation (to Darcy). That is why she dreaded that her suspicions about his involvement might be just.
45. her: Elizabeth.
46. In other words, even Elizabeth's vanity, which would make her more likely to believe that Darcy's affection was strong enough to make him wish to marry her, was insufficient to convince her of this when she considered the factors that would deter him from wishing such a marriage.
47. liberality: financial generosity.
48. Elizabeth hesitates to pronounce a definite judgment on the reasons for Darcy's actions. This contrasts with her earlier tendency to make quick and certain judgments of people. Now, having seen many of those judgments turn out to be wrong, she exercises greater caution.
49. character: reputation (restored to decent status by Darcy's actions).
50. Once more Elizabeth is forced to do penance for her earlier mistakes and bad behavior. Such penance is critical for her reformation. Darcy must undergo the same penance: one can imagine that he would often reproach himself for his proud and cold behavior toward Elizabeth, and toward others in her presence. Having to involve himself with Wickham as he has done would also be a heavy pain for him to endure. His inner ordeal, however, is alluded to rather than directly presented by the author.
51. confidence: intimacy.
52. Elizabeth feels regret as well as pleasure because of her conviction that Darcy will not marry her due to her being now connected with Wickham. Thus the receipt of information suggesting she may still be dear to Darcy serves to increase her sense of what she has lost due to Wickham's marriage with Lydia.
53. These would be paths in the copse where Elizabeth has been reading the letter (using one of the benches). The existence of such a wooded area, with multiple paths and benches—along with a shrubbery where people can walk (mentioned elsewhere in the novel and distinguished from the copse)—indicates that the Bennets, or the previous owners of the house, have also engaged in landscape improvements. Such improvements, though obviously most practicable among the very wealthy, were popular at various social levels. Jane Austen reveals in a letter that her family, with an income more modest than the Bennets, undertook beautifying improvements in the grounds of their home (Oct. 26, 1800).
54. A sign that she hopes others will interrupt her conversation with Wickham.
55. Wickham introduces the topic of Pemberley presumably because, knowing of Elizabeth's recent visit there, he wishes to ascertain how much more she may have learned about his own case. Since Elizabeth is now his sister-in-law he has a particular incentive to hope that the true nature of his dealings with Darcy has not been revealed to her.
56. That is, Wickham says it would be too much for him emotionally; otherwise, he would stop there when he and Lydia traveled to Newcastle (Derbyshire would only be a little out of the way in a trip from Hertfordshire to Newcastle—see map, p. 742).
57. not turned out well: the housekeeper's actual words were “turned out very wild,” but Elizabeth, after hesitating, softens them. In contrast to her goading of Darcy while she was championing Wickham, she now refrains from any truly harsh words towards Wickham. One obvious reason is that she has a family connection with him; another could be the way the experience of her earlier mistakes has made her delight less in witty abuse of others.
58. Darcy: Wickham's first use of this term; until now he has always said “Mr. Darcy.” Since the two men have established no family connection at this point, Wickham's usage is a sign of over-familiarity on his part, inspired perhaps by Darcy's involvement in his affairs and assistance to him. Darcy, in contrast, uses “Mr. Wickham” throughout the novel, despite his dislike for Wickham and Wickham's lower social status.
59. town: London.
60. particular: special, unusual.
61. Meaning the age when Wickham tried to seduce her. One sees that he immediately changes the subject.
62. living: clerical position.
63. Many parsonage houses were in poor shape; see p. 329, note 10.
64. retirement: privacy, seclusion—in a positive sense.
65. Wickham's vision of clerical life involves only his own happiness of course. Mr. Collins is similar, though he does at least toss in a few hackneyed phrases about his clerical duties. In her next novel, Mansfield Park, Jane Austen presents in contrast a man about to be confirmed who has a true sense of the church as a moral and social calling.
66. taking orders: being ordained (to serve in the Church).
67. compromised: settled or agreed upon through mutual concession.
68. Elizabeth's holding out her hand, in addition to being a sign of amity on her part, indicates their familial relationship, for it was considered improper for a woman to shake hands with a man who was not closely connected with her. The standard procedure was for the woman to hold out her hand first (this gave her the power of deciding if she wanted to be that familiar with him), and for the man to choose whether to shake or kiss her hand. Wickham's decision to kiss it is in line with his general unctuousness; it is probable that Elizabeth was expecting him only to shake hands with her, and was not particularly pleased that he chose the more intimate response.
Chapter Eleven
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. Ben-net was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle,1 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 love2 to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas himself, to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”3
The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull4 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 spiritless5 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.6 Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets.7 She looked at Jane, and smiled, and shook her head by turns.
“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs. Philips first brought her the news.) “Well, so much the better. Not that I care about it, though. He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to see him again. But, however, he is very welcome to come to Netherfield, if he likes it. And who knows what may happen? But that is nothing to us. You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so, is it quite certain he is coming?”
“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nicholls8 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.”9
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,10 than she had often seen them.
The subject which had been so warmly canvassed11 between their parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.
“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Ben-net, “you will wait on12 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,13 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 any thing 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,14 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,15 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 unshake
n. But she would not be secure.16
“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early enough for expectation.”17
She sat intently at work,18 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.19 Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate20 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.21
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.22 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 Pem-berley. 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,23 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.24
Darcy, after enquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did, a question which she could not answer without confusion, said scarcely any thing. 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,25 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.26