by Eliza Gordon
"I shall not say you are mistaken because you could not believe me to entertain any design of alarming you," he replied. "I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact you do not hold."
Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself. "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. 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 must hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him, 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. To my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."
It was delightful that such behaviour could be considered a shocking misdemeanour.
"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 for your orders."
"Perhaps, I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction. But I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers," said Darcy.
"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 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," Darcy said in his defence.
"My fingers do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do," said Elizabeth. "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 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 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 about. Elizabeth immediately began playing again.
Lady Catherine approached and listened for a few minutes. She 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. Neither at that moment nor any other could she discern any symptom of love. From the whole of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she concluded he had no greater affection for her than he had for Miss Bingley. 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. At the request of the gentlemen, she remained at the instrument till her Ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.
Chapter 29
Mrs. Collins and Maria went to the village the next morning on business.
Sitting by herself, and writing to Jane, Elizabeth 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. Under that apprehension, she put away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions. When the door opened, to her very great surprise, it was Mr. Darcy and only Mr. Darcy.
Astonished on finding her alone, he apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies were to be within.
They sat down, and once her inquiries after Rosings were made, they seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was necessary, to think of something.
In this emergency, she recollected when she had seen him last in Hertfordshire and their hasty departure. "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. 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. "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 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. Then we might 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 if he were to give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers," said Darcy.
Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of his friend. Having nothing else to say, she 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, 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. My friend has an excellent understanding, though I am that marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems happy, and in a prudential light it is 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. 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.
"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 the 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. 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 was surprised.
The gentleman drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and glancing over it. In a colder voice, he asked, "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. After sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, he 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. 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. In the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk to it, or of the people who lived in it may be found the reason for his visit.
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.
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. In comparing them, she saw there was less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners. She believed he might have the best-informed mind.
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. 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 animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him.
Charlotte studied the both men. She watched Colonel Fitzwilliam whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success. He looked at her friend a great deal, but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, but sometimes it seemed nothing but absence of mind.
She suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of Colonel Fitzwilliam being partial to her, but Elizabeth laughed at the idea.
Chapter 30
More than once in her ramble within the park, Elizabeth unexpectedly met Mr. Darcy.
She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought. 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. On these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually turned back and walked with her.
He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much.
In the course of their third chance meeting it struck her that he asked some odd unconnected questions. He would ask about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness.
In speaking of Rosings and her not 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.
As she walked, one day she was engaged in thoughts about Jane's last letter. Dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in high spirits, when 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 as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage," he replied. "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 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 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. 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. 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. There are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money."
Is this meant for me thought Elizabeth? She coloured at the idea; but, recovered herself. In a lively tone, she said, "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.
There followed 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, that is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy," said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"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. 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. 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, "Fear not, I never heard any harm of her. 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 gentleman 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 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. He congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other details. 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 judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy. As we know none of the details, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case."