CHAPTER LIII.

1Mr. Wickham was so perfectly satisfied with this conversation, that he never again distressed himself, or provoked his dear sister Elizabeth, by introducing the subject of it; and she was pleased to find that she had said enough to keep him quiet.

2The day of his and Lydia’s departure soon came; and Mrs. Bennet was forced to submit to a separation, which, as her husband by no means entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was likely to continue at least a twelvemonth.

3“Oh, my dear Lydia,” she cried, “when shall we meet again?”

4“Oh, Lord! 5I don’t know. 6Not these two or three years, perhaps.”

7“Write to me very often, my dear.”

8“As often as I can. 9But you know married women have never much time for writing. 10My sisters may write to me. 11They will have nothing else to do.”

12Mr. Wickham’s adieus were much more affectionate than his wife’s. 13He smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.

14“He is as fine a fellow,” said Mr. Bennet, as soon as they were out of the house, “as ever I saw. 15He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all. 16I am prodigiously proud of him. 17I defy even Sir William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”

18The loss of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very dull for several days.

19“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one’s friends. 20One seems so forlorn without them.”

21“This is the consequence, you see, madam, of marrying a daughter,” said Elizabeth. 22“It must make you better satisfied that your other four are single.”

23“It is no such thing. 24Lydia does not leave me because she is married; but only because her husband’s regiment happens to be so far off. 25If that had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon.”

26But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an article of news which then began to be in circulation. 27The housekeeper at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks. 28Mrs. Bennet was quite in the fidgets. 29She looked at Jane, and smiled, and shook her head, by turns.

30“Well, well, and so Mr. Bingley is coming down, sister,” (for Mrs. Philips first brought her the news). 31“Well, so much the better. 32Not that I care about it, though. 33He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to see him again. 34But, however, he is very welcome to come to Netherfield, if he likes it. 35And who knows what may happen? 36But that is nothing to us. 37You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. 38And so, it is quite certain he is coming?”

39“You may depend on it,” replied the other, “for Mrs. Nichols was in Meryton last night: I saw her passing by, and went out myself on purpose to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certainly true. 40He comes down on Thursday, at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. 41She was going to the butcher’s, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed.”

42Miss Bennet had not been able to hear of his coming without changing colour. 43It was many months since she had mentioned his name to Elizabeth; but now, as soon as they were alone together, she said,—

44“I saw you look at me to-day, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present report; and I know I appeared distressed; but don’t imagine it was from any silly cause. 45I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that I should be looked at. 46I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with pleasure or pain. 47I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see the less of him. 48Not that I am afraid of myself, but I dread other people’s remarks.”

49Elizabeth did not know what to make of it. 50Had she not seen him in Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no other view than what was acknowledged; but she still thought him partial to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming there with his friend’s permission, or being bold enough to come without it.

51“Yet it is hard,” she sometimes thought, “that this poor man cannot come to a house, which he has legally hired, without raising all this speculation! 52I will leave him to himself.”

53In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be her feelings, in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could easily perceive that her spirits were affected by it. 54They were more disturbed, more unequal, than she had often seen them.

55The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward again.

56“As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “you will wait on him, of course.”

57“No, no. 58You forced me into visiting him last year, and promised, if I went to see him, he should marry one of my daughters. 59But it ended in nothing, and I will not be sent on a fool’s errand again.”

60His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his returning to Netherfield.

61“’Tis an etiquette I despise,” said he. 62“If he wants our society, let him seek it. 63He knows where we live. 64I will not spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back again.”

65“Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait on him. 66But, however, that shan’t prevent my asking him to dine here, I am determined. 67We must have Mrs. Long and the Gouldings soon. 68That will make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for him.”

69Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear her husband’s incivility; though it was very mortifying to know that her neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, before they did. 70As the day of his arrival drew near,—

71“I begin to be sorry that he comes at all,” said Jane to her sister. 72“It would be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference; but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually talked of. 73My mother means well; but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she says. 74Happy shall I be when his stay at Netherfield is over!”

75“I wish I could say anything to comfort you,” replied Elizabeth; “but it is wholly out of my power. 76You must feel it; and the usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied me, because you have always so much.”

77Mr. Bingley arrived. 78Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her side be as long as it could. 79She counted the days that must intervene before their invitation could be sent—hopeless of seeing him before. 80But on the third morning after his arrival in Hertfordshire, she saw him from her dressing-room window enter the paddock, and ride towards the house.

81Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. 82Jane resolutely kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went to the window—she looked—she saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down again by her sister.

83“There is a gentleman with him, mamma,” said Kitty; “who can it be?”

84“Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know.”

85“La!” replied Kitty, “it looks just like that man that used to be with him before. 86Mr. what’s his name—that tall, proud man.”

87“Good gracious! 88Mr. Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. 89Well, any friend of Mr. Bingley’s will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him.”

90Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. 91She knew but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt for the awkwardness which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time after receiving his explanatory letter. 92Both sisters were uncomfortable enough. 93Each felt for the other, and of course for themselves; and their mother talked on of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to be civil to him only as Mr. Bingley’s friend, without being heard by either of them. 94But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which could not yet be suspected by Jane, to whom she had never yet had courage to show Mrs. Gardiner’s letter, or to relate her own change of sentiment towards him. 95To Jane, he could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, and whose merits she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive information, he was the person to whom the whole family were indebted for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded herself with an interest, if not quite so tender, at least as reasonable and just, as what Jane felt for Bingley. 96Her astonishment at his coming—at his coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour in Derbyshire.

97The colour which had been driven from her face returned for half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken; but she would not be secure.

98“Let me first see how he behaves,” said she; “it will then be early enough for expectation.”

99She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the door. 100Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. 101On the gentlemen’s appearing, her colour increased; yet she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment, or any unnecessary complaisance.

102Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not often command. 103She had ventured only one glance at Darcy. 104He looked serious as usual; and, she thought, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at Pemberley. 105But, perhaps, he could not in her mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. 106It was a painful, but not an improbable, conjecture.

107Bingley she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. 108He was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her courtesy and address of his friend.

109Elizabeth particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied.

110Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did—a question which she could not answer without confusion—said scarcely anything. 111He was not seated by her: perhaps that was the reason of his silence; but it had not been so in Derbyshire. 112There he had talked to her friends when he could not to herself. 113But now several minutes elapsed, without bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as often found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but the ground. 114More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were plainly expressed. 115She was disappointed, and angry with herself for being so.

116“Could I expect it to be otherwise?” said she. 117“Yet why did he come?”

118She was in no humour for conversation with anyone but himself; and to him she had hardly courage to speak.

119She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.

120“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet.

121He readily agreed to it.

122“I began to be afraid you would never come back again. 123People did say, you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. 124A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood since you went away. 125Miss Lucas is married and settled: and one of my own daughters. 126I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. 127It was in the ‘Times’ and the ‘Courier,’ I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. 128It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq., to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. 129It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up, too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. 130Did you see it?”

131Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. 132Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes. 133How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could not tell.

134“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” continued her mother; “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken away from me. 135They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not know how long. 136His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the ——shire, and of his being gone into the Regulars. 137Thank heaven! 138he has some friends, though, perhaps, not so many as he deserves.”

139Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery of shame that she could hardly keep her seat. 140It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done before; and she asked Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at present. 141A few weeks, he believed.

142“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother, “I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet’s manor. 143I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the coveys for you.”

144Elizabeth’s misery increased at such unnecessary, such officious attention! 145Were the same fair prospect to arise at present, as had flattered them a year ago, everything, she was persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion. 146At that instant she felt, that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful confusion.

147“The first wish of my heart,” said she to herself, “is never more to be in company with either of them. 148Their society can afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as this! 149Let me never see either one or the other again!”

150Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from observing how much the beauty of her sister rekindled the admiration of her former lover. 151When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little, but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. 152He found her as handsome as she had been last year; as good-natured, and as unaffected, though not quite so chatty. 153Jane was anxious that no difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that she talked as much as ever; but her mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was silent.

154When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at Longbourn in a few days’ time.

155“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added; “for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us as soon as you returned. 156I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”

157Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business. 158They then went away.

159Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year.