by Eliza Gordon
Chapter 34
The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning.
After waiting near the lodges to pay deferential respect to the parting, Mr. Collins was able to report home how they appeared in good health.
To Rosings he then hastened, to console Lady Catherine and her daughter. On his return, with great satisfaction he brought an invitation from her Ladyship. She felt so dull she desired for them all to dine with her.
Elizabeth could not see Lady Catherine without recollecting that she might by this time have been presented to her as her future niece. It gave her great amusement to imagine her Ladyship's indignation.
Their first subject was the diminution of the Rosings party. "I assure you, I feel it exceedingly," said Lady Catherine. "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 sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last. Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, more than last year, I think. His attachment to Rosings increases."
Mr. Collins had a compliment and an allusion to throw in here, which made the mother and daughter smile.
Lady Catherine observed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet seemed out of spirits. Herself immediately accounting for it by supposing that she did not like to go home again so soon. "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 two weeks."
"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. I am going there early in June, for a week. As Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good room for one of you. 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 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. She did not answer them all herself, some replies by Elizabeth were necessary, keeping her from dwelling on her thoughts. Reflection must be reserved for solitary hours. Whenever she was alone, she gave way to it as the greatest relief. Not a day went by without a solitary walk, in which she might indulge in all the delight of unpleasant recollections.
She was in a fair way of soon knowing by heart Mr. Darcy's letter. 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. When she considered how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned against herself.
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 past behaviour, there was a constant source of vexation and regret. 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. Her mother, with manners so far from right herself, was entirely insensible of the evil.
Frequently had Elizabeth united with Jane in an endeavour to check the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia. While they were supported by their mother's indulgence, what chance could there be of improvement? Completely under Lydia's guidance, weak-spirited, and irritable, Catherine had always been 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. While Meryton was within a walk of Longbourn, they would be going there forever.
Anxiety on Jane's behalf was another prevailing concern. 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 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 Jane had been deprived, by the folly and indecorum of her own family! Deprived of a situation so desirable in every respect, so replete with advantage, so promising for happiness.
The happy spirits which had seldom been depressed were so much affected as to make it almost impossible for her to appear 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. Her Ladyship again inquired minutely into the particulars of their journey. She instructed them on the best method of packing and was urgent on the necessity of placing gowns in the only right way. 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. Miss de Bourgh exerted herself to curtsey and held out her hand to both.
Chapter 35
On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few minutes before the others appeared. He took the opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary.
"I know not, Miss Elizabeth, 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. But I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension. We have done everything in our power to make your time here pleasant."
Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had spent six weeks with great enjoyment. The pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, must make her feel obliged.
Gratified, Mr. Collins smiled with solemnity. "It gives me great pleasure to hear that you have passed your time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best. Most, fortunately, having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society. From our connection with Rosings, the frequent mean
s of varying the humble home scene. I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation concerning Lady Catherine's family 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. With all the disadvantages of this humble Parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of compassion, while they share our intimacy at Rosings."
Words were insufficient for the elevation of his feelings. 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. Altogether I trust it does not appear that your friend has drawn 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 happiness 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 seemed sad to leave her to such society! But she had chosen it with her eyes open. 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, the parcels placed within, and it was pronounced ready. After an affectionate parting between the friends, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins. 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. Even sending his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. He then handed her in, Maria followed.
The door was on the point of being closed, when he suddenly stopped. He reminded them, with some consternation, that they had hitherto forgotten to leave any message for the ladies at Rosings. "But you will, of course, wish to have your humble respects delivered to them. Along with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here."
Elizabeth did not object. 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 thought privately, and how much I shall have to conceal.
Their journey was performed without much conversation or any alarm. Within four hours of their leaving Hunsford, they reached Mr. Gardiner's house, where they were to remain a few days.
Jane looked well. Elizabeth had little opportunity of studying her spirits, amidst the various engagements which her aunt had kindly reserved. 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 was such a temptation to openness. At the same time, so highly gratify whatever of her own vanity she had not yet been able to reason away. But she remained in a state of indecision as to the extent of what she should communicate. Her fear, if she once entered on the subject, of repeating something of Bingley which might only grieve her sister further.
Chapter 36
It was the second week in May when the three young ladies set out together from Gracechurch Street for Hertfordshire.
They drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet's carriage was to meet them. Quickly they perceived, in token of the coachman's punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining-room up stairs.
After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords. "Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?"
"And we mean to treat you all, but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there," added Lydia. "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! There were two or three much uglier in the shop. 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 officers have left Meryton, and they are going presently to Brighton."
"Are they indeed!" cried Elizabeth, with the greatest satisfaction.
"Now I have got some news for you," said Lydia, as they sat down at the 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. 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 eaten, and the elder sisters paid. The carriage was ordered. After some contrivance, the whole party, with all their boxes, work-bags, and parcels, and 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 not 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. 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. 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. 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 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. More than once during dinner did Mr. Bennet say, "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. Various were the subjects that occupied them. Lady Lucas inquired of Maria, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter. Mrs. Bennet was doubly engaged, on the one hand collecting an account of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her. On the other, Lydia was enumerating the various pleasures of the morning.
"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. I should have gone so all the way if Kitty had not been sick. When we got to the George, I do think we behaved very handsomely. We treated the other three with the nicest cold luncheon in the world, and if you had 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!"