Even then, Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no more, and though a day seldom passed in which Jane or Elizabeth did not account for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it with less perplexity. Elizabeth endeavoured to convince her of what, I think, she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet's best comfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.
I did my best to provide rather more substantial comfort via Lizzy, since I did not have the heart to address Jane directly on the subject.
"So, Lizzy," I said one day, "your sister is crossed in love I find. I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction among her companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough at Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickham be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably."
"Thank you, Sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not all expect Jane's good fortune."
"True," said I, "but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will always make the most of it.”
But, however, we soon had another subject to think about, or rather, the previous one again, for after a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his side, by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised another letter of thanks. I fear we shall soon be able to paper the parlour with these egregious missives.
But all seasons have their consolations, and on the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner is a sensible, gentleman-like man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who is several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, is an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great favourite with all her Longbourn nieces.
She is one of the very few members of the female sex I know with whom it is possible to carry on an intelligent conversation. I make no fling at the sex with this comment. It is no fault of theirs that most of them are inculcated from their very earliest years to think of nothing but attracting men and acquiring a good husband, which is as much as to say, to think of nothing much at all. I have tried my best, in the face of all Mrs. Bennet’s untiring assistance, to induce some merest semblance of rational thought in my daughters, and the extent of my success may, of course, be seen in Kitty and Lydia.
The first part of Mrs. Gardiner's business on her arrival, was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was done, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing in it.
“I do not blame Jane," she continued, "for Jane would have got Mr. Bingley, if she could. But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think that she might have been Mr. Collins's wife by this time, had not it been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people indeed, sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us, of long sleeves."
Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth's correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and in compassion to her nieces turned the conversation.
Her compassion to her nieces, indeed, extended to an invitation to Jane to return to London with them. I could see Mrs. Bennet’s expectation that this would lead to a reunion of the two lovers written quite clearly on her face, and so, I think, did Mrs. Gardiner, for she continued –
“I hope, that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence you, Jane, dear. We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable you should meet at all, unless he really comes to see you.”
The Gardiners staid a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family dinner.
When they departed, taking Jane with them, the gap that they left in our society at Longbourn was considerable.
Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted by the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took up his abode with the Lucases, his arrival was no great inconvenience to us. His marriage was now fast approaching, and Mrs. Bennet was at length so far resigned as to think it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say in an ill-natured tone that she "wished they might be happy."
Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and when she rose to take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother's ungracious and reluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room.
On her return, she said little apart from that Charlotte had said she would write, and that she had promised to visit the Collinses when Sir William and Maria went to them in March.
The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the church door, and every body had as much to say or to hear on the subject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; whether it was equally unreserved was impossible for me to say, but I sincerely doubt it.
Letters also came from Jane, but all were addressed to Elizabeth, and she said little about them beyond the fact that Jane had seen nothing of Mr. Bingley, although his sister had called, once.
With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. She told me that she had not at first thought very seriously of going thither; but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the plan, and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There was novelty in the scheme, and as, with such a mother and such uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, a little change was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would moreover give her a peep at Jane; and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have been very sorry for any delay. Every thing, however, went on smoothly, and was finally settled according to Charlotte's first sketch. She was to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The improvement of spending a night in London was added in time
, and the plan became as perfect as a plan could be.
I flatter myself that the only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going, that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.
Chapter Twenty-Four Lacunae
The next six weeks were, I confess, excessively tedious.
With only Mrs. Bennet and the three younger girls in the house, even my library began to seem less a place of refuge than one of isolation. There is a certain amount of entertainment- of a sort - to be found in exasperation, but it needs to be leavened with a due proportion of rationality to have the proper savour. Without that admixture it very quickly palls.
All subjects of conversation with my present family were soon exhausted. Any attempt at raising the level of a discussion above that of petticoats could only succeed as far as hats, while a diversion from the subject of young men would get no further than officers. After a week of Trojan efforts, I bowed to the inevitable and sat night after night listening – or, rather, trying not to listen – to the latest news of the haberdasher’s, or the milliner’s, or the camp.
So oppressive did all this become, that, although I had sworn not to do so, and although I am sure that she never really expected me to write to her, whatever I may have promised, I actually bestirred myself to write to Lizzy in terms which, while never mentioning the actual word, I made no doubt that she would recognize as a plea for her return.
I am very glad I did so, for Lizzy told me soon after her return that Lady Catherine had pressed her to stay another fortnight at Hunsford, and only the receipt of my letter had given her a reason to decline this invitation. She did not say so in so many words, but it was clear that she had had quite enough of Lady Catherine’s society, although she was eager with her thanks to the Collinses and assurances of happiness there. She had, she said, spent six weeks with great enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the kind attentions she had received, must make her feel obliged.
But this was in the second week in May, when Kitty and Lydia set out in the carriage to meet their sisters at St Albans and bring them back in triumph. I trusted the girls on a journey thus far as they begged for the treat, and I thought that John coachman would keep them in order until their sisters were on hand to do so. Besides, it would get them out of the house, where lately their presence had been particularly irksome.
When at last they did return it was a triumph indeed, in spite of the numerous hatboxes and bandboxes with which Lydia and Kitty had somehow managed to encumber themselves while waiting.
Their reception at home was most affecting. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished beauty; and although we were encumbered with the whole Lucas tribe as well as our own family, I could not stop myself saying more than once to Elizabeth,
"I am glad you are come back, Lizzy."
The party in the dining-room was large, for almost all the Lucases came to meet Maria and hear the news: and various were the subjects which occupied them; lady Lucas was enquiring of Maria across the table, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet was doubly engaged, on one hand collecting an account of the present fashions from Jane, who sat some way below her, and on the other, retailing them all to the younger Miss Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice rather louder than any other person's, was enumerating the various pleasures of the morning to any body who would hear her.
"Oh! Mary," said she, "I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun! As we went along, Kitty and me drew up all the blinds, and pretended there was nobody in the coach; and I should have gone so all the way, if Kitty had not been sick; and when we got to the George, I do think we behaved very handsomely, for we treated the other three with the nicest cold luncheon in the world, and if you would have 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 any body might have heard us ten miles off!”
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 any body 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 see how every body went on; but Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. It should not be said, that the Miss Bennets could not be at home half a day before they were in pursuit of the officers.
I confess that the delight I felt in having both Lizzy and Jane back with us quite overwhelmed any doubts I may have had about another prospective lacuna in the family circle.
Chapter Twenty-five A Trip to the Seaside
While almost all restraining influences had been withdrawn, Lydia had become more than ever the spoilt darling of her mother, and, it appeared, of Meryton society.
She had endeared herself to the young wife of the officer commanding the Militia, Colonel Forster, and was more than ever in the company of red coats.
The news that the regiment was shortly to leave Meryton for Brighton Camp set her into an ecstasy of wandering about the house bemoaning her lot.
“What will it signify what one wears this summer, after the ——shire have left Meryton? How shall we get on without them? They are going in a fortnight."
And the like was all she had to say in reply to any remark addressed to her, until a new scheme came into her head.
Shortly before the return of Elizabeth and Jane, I found myself faced with a deputation.
Lydia began it with,
“Papa, you know that the militia are about to leave Meryton, do you not?”
It was pointless to deny it, so I merely nodded.
“Would it not be a fine thing if we all spent the summer at Brighton? We have never even seen the sea, and it is such a fashionable spot, you know. Please, papa, they are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want you to take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme, and I dare say would hardly cost any thing at all. Mamma would like to go too of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall have!"
Mrs. Bennet, on being applied to, lent the expected support to her favourite’s pleas.
“Just think, Mr. Bennet, what a fine thing it would be for the girls to have a season at Brighton! Why it is the first watering place in the kingdom! Just think of all the suitable young men they would meet, all the useful acquaintances they would make!”
She continued at much greater length than this, but I could also think of all the expense that would be incurred, all the money that would far more usefully be laid aside for the girls’ future. I could think, too, of what a delightful scheme it would be, indeed, and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, to my girls, who had been overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton.
I would not hear of it, at first, but female pleas have a way of wearing down resistance as water wears down a stone, by constant dripping, and by the time that Elizabeth and Jane returned, I had been reduced, although I had not the smallest intention of yielding, to answers that were at the same time so vague and equivocal, that a little peace might be obtained from them.
So vague and equivocal were they, however, that Mrs. Bennet though often disheartened, had never yet despaired of succeeding at last.
Still, time would cure that. Soon we should be rid of the whole regiment, and it was to be hoped that we might return to something resembling normality. With this in mind I fear my answers to Lydia’s entreaties became more ambivalent than ever. But they seemed to be working.
The last week of the regiment's stay i
n Meryton came, and 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. Very frequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend such hard-heartedness in any of the family.
"Good Heavens! 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- very often - 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 Millar's regiment went away. I thought I should have broke 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! How can papa be so disagreeable."
"A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever, and my aunt Philips is sure it would do me a great deal of good," added Kitty.
Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually through Longbourn-house.
But the gloom of Lydia's prospect was shortly cleared away; for 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 of their three months' acquaintance they had been intimate two.
To Make Sport for our Neighbours Page 12