Mrs. Darcy's Dilemma: A Sequel to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice

by Diana Birchall

  "Henry wants a compliment, Cloe," said Jane. "You had better oblige him by paying it."

  "I thought I had," said Cloe, with a smile. "You should be quite gratified by your own performance. The object of your words is to make the congregation think about being good, and in that, I am sure you succeeded."

  "Kindly said - and kindly meant I am sure. But I think what my sister is hinting is that I may become too fond of the sound of my own voice. However, if yesterday is any example, that is not likely to happen; I was uncomfortable enough when it came to the point, and when I saw so many faces turned up to me, I felt all my unworthiness, and my great responsibility, and wondered that it should be such a lazy fellow as myself, telling people their duty."

  "But preaching is your duty."

  "It is a part of it, certainly; but not all. In my father's young days, a clergyman might be content to do no more than to read a sermon aloud on Sunday, and divide his services amongst several parishes, taking the livings of them all; but that will not do now. A clergyman today cannot be a mere fine gentlemen. There is more thought given to these matters nowadays, or at any rate, more talking about them. Evangelism is much discussed in the great centers of learning. But here I am giving you a veritable Collins-sermon. I told you of my propensities. Perhaps I should take as my text, 'earnestness is best out of sight.' "

  "What you say is very true," said Cloe, "but at Pemberley, there can be little work to do - so liberal as your father and mother have been. The model cottages are fine; and I have never seen anybody that looks very poor, hereabouts. I am sure it will be the same at Manygrove."

  "Yes; I could almost wish for a wider sphere. Pleasant parishes like Manygrove do not need my services to the same degree as the poor mining towns. The changes going on in the world, since the Reform Act, have thrown so many people out of work, and distressed so many in the north, in regions much closer to this than you may be aware, that I almost do not think it right to be comfortable only five miles from Pemberley, as I shall be. Perhaps I shall look up some work in the coal fields."

  "I envy your undertaking," said Cloe earnestly, "I only wish I could do as much." Before she had spoken the words, she blushed to think how they could be construed, and wished she could recall them.

  "I am sure you can never help doing good, any more than a parson, or a parson's wife," said Henry, with an arch half-smile.

  Cloe felt her heart beating, but she said calmly, "As I am to be a governess, I do not expect I will be in a position to do much for the poor; only for spoilt children, I imagine."

  "Why, you never know where your mission lies," he said lightly, "either of you two young ladies. Perhaps you will even marry a clergyman - such as myself."

  He stopped walking, put his stick in the ground, and looked earnestly at Cloe. She blushed deeply and turned away.

  "That won't be my fate," said Jane gaily, "if Aunt Kitty is an example, I cannot admire the lot of a clergyman's wife!"

  "I think we may depend on your not turning out much like poor Aunt Kitty, whatever your station," said Henry with a laugh, and turned the subject. "Look, how the holly grows so thickly on this path; wonderful shiny green leaves, and the reddest of berries. Shall we gather some, for decorations? My mother will be pleased. Here is my penknife."

  They industriously fell to work, and the talk became desultory. At length they looked up to discern a carriage at the top of the ridge, approaching Pemberley.

  "There. Now my mother's apprehension, and my father's, will be answered. If I mistake not, that is Lady Catherine's coach, with the Collinses," said Henry, pulling down a branch.

  CHAPTER VI

  Lady Catherine de Bourgh, somewhat impeded by rheumatics, walked with magisterial gravity into the drawing room, attended with deference by Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Mrs. Darcy rose to receive her, and was imitated by Mrs. Clarke and Mrs. Wickham, as the usual civilities were exchanged.

  Her Ladyship did not bestow much attention on Elizabeth, whom she cordially detested for the lowness of her connections, and she looked past her sisters, quite as if they were not there. Instead, she seated herself, with great attention to all the details of her own comfort, then stared at Bettina some time, and at last inquired who she was.

  "It is my niece, Miss Wickham," Elizabeth replied with brevity.

  "Niece? Oh, I see. The product of that infamous union between your sister and that scandalous scoundrel - the steward's son. So much to be deplored, I have always said!"

  "Madam, perhaps you will wish to moderate your remarks, as you see Mrs. Wickham before you."

  "Oh, is it? But I have never held that an evil is any less an evil by being hid. I said that this marriage was disgraceful five and twenty years ago. It is still so today; and I call it extraordinary that you, Mrs. Darcy, can have such people to stay at Pemberley, and to expect someone of my rank and dignity in life, as well as my age and infirmity, to endure the shock of such an introduction. Am I not right, Mr. Collins?"

  "Indeed, Mrs. Darcy," said Mr. Collins pompously, "I wonder at it myself. That is exactly what I told my dear Charlotte when I found out who was likely to be here. You never do right by countenancing wrong, you know; and so I would say, were I rector of Pemberley. Clarke is altogether too lax. That book of his - the Flowers of Derbyshire - is all very well; but he ought to be attending to the morals of his parishioners. Gardens are fine things, but it is very ridiculous to think about them in the winter, in my opinion. By the by, where is your son Henry? Now that he is ordained, it is really his duty to teach you, his honoured parents, how to behave toward these unworthy relations. They ought never to be noticed by you. I am sure Henry feels with me on this matter. I wish I could have heard his first sermon; but of course I had my own duty to attend to. That is what I will tell him - never to neglect his sermon. Depend upon it, young Mr. Henry needs advice from a clergyman of greater years and experience than himself, and I shall be most happy to serve. I am sure Dr. Clarke has done little toward instructing him - and I am sorry for it. Where is the young gentleman? Not from home, I trust. That would be unfilial, at this season."

  "He is in this house," said Mrs. Darcy, "or will be when he comes in from the park. When he does, Mr. Collins, it will not be time to teach him his obligations, if you please, for this is to be a party of pleasure."

  "All the more reason," said Mr. Collins impressively, "why I must take it upon myself to teach Mr. Henry his duty. He is come unto scenes of temptation, with all this gaiety; and it would do well for his brother and sister to hear my words too, and your nieces must be in especial need, brought up as they have been. Every one starting out in life can benefit from my advice. Many a twig has fallen from the tree for want of a proper word of caution."

  "You will have your opportunity, Mr. Collins, to lecture all the trees in the park, while you are here, if you wish it; but I hope you will wait until after the ball. All the young people are at home. Henry and Jane are out walking with Cloe, I believe, and I heard Fitzwilliam ride up a little while ago, so you will see him soon."

  "There are two of these girls, then?" said Lady Catherine. "Unfortunate. I hope, Mrs. Darcy, that your sister does not design these girls for your sons. Such a calamity could only result in the ruin of the entire house. Unequal marriages never answer, or misalliances either," and she looked pointedly at Elizabeth.

  Lydia lost her head. "Misalliances!" she ejaculated, "I like that! Where there is a fine family of children, you cannot think there is anything wrong with the marriage; and Mrs. Darcy has three good ones, and I have a great many more. Not poor, puny little only children that don't survive!"

  This was a hit at Lady Catherine herself, whose only daughter, Anne, had died, while still a young woman, the victim of excessively copious doses of calomel, prescribed by her ladyship herself. Lady Catherine's broad face turned red, but before she could answer, Lydia raged on, "My daughter Betty is as beautiful as any girl in the kingdom, and as good, and I should not wonder if she was on the point of becomin
g engaged to Mr. Fitz, if she should wish it!"

  Lady Catherine opened her mouth to reply, and Bettina paled, but neither spoke, for at that moment Mr. Darcy and Fitzwilliam walked into the room. They made their bows in form, while Lady Catherine took breath, and began her attack on them both.

  "Do you hear, Darcy! What this infamous creature has had the temerity to say, and in your own house!"

  "Evidently not," he replied coldly, "as I have only just walked in. And I must observe, that this to me, by way of a greeting, Aunt Catherine, is quite extraordinary. But you are referring to a lady ?"

  "A lady! Not quite that, I think! This person you so unwisely insist upon harbouring - " she indicated Lydia - "has made her plans for your son, and means to marry him to her daughter, I tell you."

  "She will be clever if she can achieve that, aunt. But you need not be afraid. Fitzwilliam has no thought of marriage at the present, have you, my son?"

  Fitzwilliam uttered something unintelligible.

  "And if he had, I am not sure that consulting you, Lady Catherine, as to its propriety, would be needful. In such cases, a man is only obliged to obtain the consent of his own parents."

  "I must take exception, sir," said Mr. Collins. "Lady Catherine is the senior member of your immediate family, and as such, it is understandable, nay praiseworthy, that she should show concern for all the affairs of the junior branches. You cannot wonder that she takes a tender interest in the family reputation. And if marriage, a proper marriage, is in question, then I feel I must have something to say about it, for the sacraments fall under a clergyman's care, and I have long been by way of being man of God to this family, if not in name, then in deed. When a man, a young man, of considerable means, like Mr. Fitzwilliam, can support a wife, he ought to do it, I say; and so I should advise all such young men. But again, he must of course consult all his different relations' wishes in the matter. When I myself married, it was quite another thing. I had no one to consult, my honoured father was dead, and I am sure he could not have objected to the amiable lady I then nominated as my wife; but had he been alive you may be sure every one of his wishes would have guided my own."

  "I am highly displeased and affronted, Darcy," said Lady Catherine, "and I do not mind telling you, that if it were not so late in the day, I should turn the coach about and return at once into Kent. But as it is I had much better remain for the ball, however distasteful the duty is to me. I have no pleasure at being at Pemberley, when things are thus disordered."

  "Perhaps Lady Catherine will like to go to her room to rest," said Mrs. Collins solicitously, "I know I should." "Indeed, dear Charlotte, the very thing," said Mrs. Darcy gratefully.

  CHAPTER VII

  Cloe dressed herself carefully for her first ball with some difficulty as Bettina and the maids had taken up a position in front of the looking-glass and she could scarcely see around or through them. In the absence of jewels to display, Bettina was evolving a complicated hair arrangement in which her plaits were sculpted and twined about with a feather headdress lent her by Mrs. Darcy.

  The sisters' gowns were both white, but when they at last stood together before the mirror, the maids revolving about them, pulling out their skirts so the material lay smoothly, Cloe felt that no one would take notice of her, when Bettina was by. Yet she was in remarkably good looks: her white skin shone in the firelight, her light hair was arranged smoothly in bands over the ears, with some small gold flowers taken from the hot-house; and she had the satisfaction of a pair of white-and-gold enamel bracelets lent her by Jane, though a ribbon around her neck was her only other ornamentation.

  She appeared a picture of simplicity; yet using similar materials, Bettina had drawn a very different picture indeed. More statuesque in form, she commanded the eye with her height, bearing, and colouring, more brilliant than her sister's. Her dark hair was impressive in its ornamentation, and she waved a feathery fan that Fitzwilliam had bestowed upon her, though she laughingly declined to own where it came from.

  On the landing the sisters were met by Jane, who advanced, all elegance, her own silk gown more costly than her cousins', with diamond solitaires twinkling in her ears, and a headpiece of silk roses.

  "Oh! Jane, how lovely you look!" cried Cloe.

  "You are the ones who are lovely, and I shall be proud to present my cousins," she replied, kissing them, and they swept downstairs, the two younger girls arm in arm, Bettina pacing behind them, towering over their heads in stately fashion.

  The house party was collected in the ballroom already, and carriages were arriving from all the great houses of the neighbourhood. In spite of Lydia's fear that the weather might keep people away, the guests numbered scarcely less than three score. The Pemberley ballroom was fully equal to such a gathering, and it looked its most beautiful, with hundreds of wax-candles sparkling in the great crystal chandeliers, the polished floor gleaming in readiness for the dance, and the holly decorations hanging in festoons from the walls, making a most festive Christmas appearance.

  Mr. Darcy beamed fondly at his daughter and took her arm as the procession went in.

  "It is fairyland," said Cloe, enchanted, to Henry, as he took her arm and they fell into step behind Fitzwilliam and Bettina.

  "It is pretty, is not it? I am glad you are pleased; that is what my father so kindly intended. And I like seeing you in such good looks: I am sure I may safely say as much, for you are not one of the young ladies that affects anger upon being complimented."

  "To be sure not. I am too happy. Do you know, if I am to be a governess, my recollections of a night like this will be pleasant to me, and I shall be fortunate to have them."

  "Yes - " he said thoughtfully, "but I hope that does not mean you consider your fate as settled. You might marry, you know. People sometimes do."

  "But I am not an heiress," she replied with a smile, "so it is wisest for me to plan for the day my ordinary life begins again."

  "Cloe, it is not my place to wonder - but is being a governess exactly the lot you should choose for yourself? Or would you choose to be useful in another sphere, say as wife to a useful man?"

  "Of course I would rather be that," she said, casting down her eyes, "anybody would; but I cannot expect such good fortune."

  He said no more, recollecting where he was, but he took her hand as the fiddlers began to strike up for the first dance.

  Jane stood by the side of Lord Frederick, the family connection, who was handsome and charming beyond what any family had a right to expect. With gallant punctiliousness, he had early claimed his right to the first two dances. "For you have kept me waiting longer than any other partner," he told her. "I have been waiting for you to grow up."

  Jane's cheeks, always pink, went a little pinker. "And are you pleased with the result?" she asked archly.

  "No one could be more so," he returned with admiring sincerity, and they began to dance together, in perfect time.

  The older people watched from a row of gilt chairs, with varying expressions of criticism, elation, or spite. The Darcys, beaming on their daughter, looked, and were, some of the most happy and content beings in the room.

  "Our Jane is everything she should be," said Darcy, "you are to be congratulated, Elizabeth, on such a beautiful young woman; she does you credit."

  "There is very little of my merit in her beauty; she resembles me less than she does her aunt Jane, for which I am thankful, for Jane was always the beauty of the family. Our sons too - are they not a handsome pair?"

  "If looks were virtues, we might be perfectly satisfied with all our children," was the reply.

  But the Darcys could not indulge themselves in parental compliments of longer duration. Lady Catherine leaned over Elizabeth to speak to her nephew.

  "Darcy! I must beg that this disgraceful scene be stopped. Cannot these musicians play something other than a valse? It is not proper. Country dances, or minuets, were the mode in my youth. But these valses - with such close embraces, and such swift moveme
nt, will cause the dancers to become dangerously feverish, and to swoon, with the very worst consequences that can possibly be."

  "Lady Catherine is quite right," Mr. Collins agreed, with energy. "It is the very thing to inflame the passions, and to occasion brain fever. I do not like to speak of such things before ladies, but when I see young cousins dancing together in such a fashion, it is my duty, as a clergymen, to remonstrate."

  "Yes, indeed, Mr. Collins, Fitzwilliam and that girl have had four dances together: four, and there is no end to it. People are starting to talk. Something must be done."

  Elizabeth had little desire to do anything to please Lady Catherine, but this was a rare instance of their thinking in concert, for to her discomfiture, as she examined her feelings, she found that they were not very dissimilar from her ladyship's. "Miss Partridge is not dancing," she said. "I am very concerned to see it. Let me find Fitzwilliam, and ask him to dance with her."

  But a survey of the ballroom failed to disclose her older son or Miss Wickham, though every one had seen them only moments before; and Elizabeth finally laid her gloved hand on Cloe's arm as her partner returned her to the chaperones.

  "Have you seen your sister, my dear? I want Fitzwilliam, and last time I saw them they were dancing together."

  "Yes, they were, ma'am. But they cannot be dancing any longer - the first set of dances is over, and I have changed partners, so I suppose Bettina is in a similar situation."

  "No doubt I will see them when the dancers take the floor again," said Mrs. Darcy.

  Henry came over to her. "You want Fitzwilliam, Mama? Perhaps he is in the card-room, or the supper-room. And some of the dancers may have stepped into the garden. Shall I look there?"

  "Surely no one can be outside at this hour," objected Mr. Collins. "There is actually ice on the ground, and in thin dancing-clothes it would be most incautious."

  "But some of the gentlemen go outside to smoke."