Elizabeth Bennet

by Eliza Gordon

  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. Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. It should not be said that the older 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 two weeks they were to go—and once gone, she hoped there could be nothing more to plague her on his account.

  She had been home few hours when she found that the Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had given them a hint at the inn, was under frequent discussion.

  Mr. Bennet clearly had not the smallest intention of yielding, but his answers were at the same time vague.

  Mrs. Bennet had not yet despaired of succeeding at last.

  Chapter 37

  The next morning present Elizabeth with the opportunity to acquaint Jane with what had happened.

  Resolved to suppress every particular in which Jane was concerned, Elizabeth prepared her for the surprise. She related the chief of the scene between Mr. Darcy and herself.

  Jane was not as astonished as other's may have been because of her strong sisterly admiration of Elizabeth.

  She was sorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner so little suited to recommend them. 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, and certainly ought not to have appeared. But consider how much it must increase his disappointment!"

  "Indeed, I am heartily sorry for him," replied Elizabeth. "But he has other feelings, which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. You do not blame me 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.

  Most earnestly did Jane labour to prove the probability of error, and seek to clear the one without involving the other.

  "This will not do, you never will be able to make both of them good for anything," said Elizabeth. "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. 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 before a smile could be extorted from Jane. "I do not know when I have been more shocked. Wickham was 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 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, which I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent."

  "Poor Wickham! There is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!"

  "I can agree that there 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," said Elizabeth.

  "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. 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. 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 do not know whether I ought, or ought not, to expose Wickham's character to our acquaintances."

  Jane 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. 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. 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 while.

  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.

  On being settled at home, Elizabeth was 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 and preferred him to every other man.

  "Well, Lizzy, 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," said Mrs. Bennet one day. "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. 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. 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 were 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, and so the Collinses live very comfortably, do they?" continued her mother, soon afterwards. "Well, well, I only ho
pe 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 38

  The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It was the last of the regiment's stay in Meryton. 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. They were reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was extreme. They 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. 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. 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 they had become close friends for two months.

  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.

  Meanwhile, 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. 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 Elizabeth attempted to make her reasonable, and Jane to make her resigned.

  As for Elizabeth herself, she considered this invitation as the death warrant of common sense for Lydia. Such a step must make her detestable as were it known.

  Elizabeth secretly advised her father not to let it happen. 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.

  Mr. Bennet listened attentively. "Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public place or other. 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 of the very great disadvantage to us all which must arise from the public notice of Lydia's unguarded and imprudent manner, I am sure you would judge differently."

  "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. Teach her that her present pursuits are not the business of her life. My dear father, if you do not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits she will soon be beyond reach. Her character will be fixed. She will be the most determined flirt that ever made herself or her family ridiculous. At sixteen, a flirt 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 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 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 took her hand and replied, "Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known you must be respected and valued. 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. 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."

  Disappointed with this answer, Elizabeth's own opinion continued the same. It was not in her nature to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having performed her duty. 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. They were entirely ignorant of what had passed. Their raptures continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia's leaving home.

  Elizabeth was to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. On the very last day of the regiment's remaining at Meryton, he dined, with other of the officers, at Longbourn.

  Elizabeth was little disposed to part from him in good humour. He asked as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford. In reply, she mentioned both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy having spent three weeks at Rosings. And she asked him if he was acquainted with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed. With a moment's recollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had seen him often in the past. After observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man, he 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! And pray, may I ask?—" But checking himself, Mr. Wickham added, in a gayer serious 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 that he is improved in essentials."

  "Oh, no!" said Elizabeth. "In essentials, 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.

  She added, "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. He turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of accents, "You so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy. You will readily comprehend how I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the appearance of what is right. His pride 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. I only fear that the sort of cautiousness to which you have been alluding is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt. Of her good opinion and judgement, he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I know, when they were together. 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 help but smile at this. She answered with only 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.