Elizabeth Bennet

by Eliza Gordon

  Mr. Gardiner assured her again of his earnest endeavours and recommended moderation to her, as well in her hopes as her fear. 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. They knew that she had not prudence enough to hold her tongue before the servants, while they waited at table.

  In the dining-room, they were soon joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been 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.

  Mistress enough of herself, Mary whispered to Elizabeth, with grave reflection, soon after they were seated at the 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 a useful lesson. That loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable. One false step involves her in endless ruin. 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 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. They discussed the whole business again.

  "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. I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow 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 tonight. Tell him I hope he will excuse me when he knows all. 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. 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, 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 thing, 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, perhaps she meant well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little of one's neighbours," cried Elizabeth. ".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, to go to Epsom, the place where they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if anything could be made out from them," replied Jane. "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. 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 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. 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 45

  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. 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. Their uncle promised, at parting, to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn, as soon as he could. This to the great consolation of Mrs. Bennet, 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 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. As she never came without reporting some fresh instance of Wickham's extravagance or irregularity, she went away leaving them more dispirited than she found them.

  All Meryton seemed to strive to blacken the man who, but three months before, had been almost an angel of light. He was in debt to every tradesman in the place. 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. Everybody began to find out that they had always distrusted the appearance of his goodness.

  Elizabeth did not credit above half of what was said but believed enough to make her former assurance of her sister's ruin more certain. Even Jane, who believed still less of it, became
almost hopeless. The time came when, if they had gone to Scotland, they must in all probability have gained some news of them, married.

  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 his brother, and persuaded him to come to Gracechurch Street. Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, but without gaining any satisfactory information. 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.

  "I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, from some of the 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 help 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. 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 that some of his companions might be able to give more information. She was not too hopeful in expecting it, the application was a something to look forward to.

  Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety. 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. 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. Jane had received directions to open all that came for him in his absence, she accordingly read. Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his letters always were, looked over her, and read it likewise.

  "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. We were yesterday informed of it by a letter from Hertfordshire. Be assured that Mrs. Collins and myself sincerely sympathise with you and all your respectable family in your present distress. 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 more to be lamented because there is reason to suppose that Lydia's licentiousness behaviour 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 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. Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, who 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. 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. Throw off your unworthy child from your affection forever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her heinous offence.

  "I am, dear sir, etc., etc."

  Mr. Gardiner did not write to the Bennet household 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, who could be pointed out as likely to give any news of him.

  And in the wretched state of his finances, there was a very powerful motive for secrecy. In addition to his fear of discovery by Lydia's relations, it 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 yielded to his brother-in-law's entreaty that he would return to his family.

  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.

  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. It was some time before his daughters dared to speak of it.

  It was not till the afternoon, when he had joined them at tea, that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject. 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, and her residence there will probably be of some duration," said her father drily. There followed a short silence. "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, which does one good, it gives such an elegance to misfortune!" he cried. "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 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, do not make yourself unhappy," said he. "If you are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of them."

  Chapter 46

  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. Concluding that she came to call them to their mother, they went forward to meet her.

  "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, do not you know there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner?" cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment. "He has been here this half-hour, and the 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.