CHAPTER LX.

1ELIZABETH’S spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. 2“How could you begin?” said she. 3“I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?”

4“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. 5It is too long ago. 6I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”

7“My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners—my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. 8Now, be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”

9“For the liveliness of your mind I did.”

10“You may as well call it impertinence at once. 11It was very little less. 12The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. 13You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. 14I roused and interested you, because I was so unlike them. 15Had you not been really amiable you would have hated me for it: but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and in your heart you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. 16There—I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. 17To be sure you know no actual good of me—but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.”

18“Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane, while she was ill at Netherfield?”

19“Dearest Jane! 20who could have done less for her? 21But make a virtue of it by all means. 22My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin directly, by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last? 23What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here? 24Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”

25“Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement.”

26“But I was embarrassed.”

27“And so was I.”

28“You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner.”

29“A man who had felt less might.”

30“How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it! 31But I wonder how long you would have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. 32I wonder when you would have spoken if I had not asked you! 33My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. 34Too much, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort springs from a breach of promise, for I ought not to have mentioned the subject? 35This will never do.”

36“You need not distress yourself. 37The moral will be perfectly fair. 38Lady Catherine’s unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. 39I am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. 40I was not in a humour to wait for an opening of yours. 41My aunt’s intelligence had given me hope, and I was determined at once to know everything.”

42“Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use. 43But tell me, what did you come down to Netherfield for? 44Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed? or had you intended any more serious consequences?”

45“My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me. 46My avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister was still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made.”

47“Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to befall her?”

48“I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. 49But it ought to be done; and if you will give me a sheet of paper it shall be done directly.”

50“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you, and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. 51But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”

52From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy had been overrated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner’s long letter; but now, having that to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as follows:—

53“I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory detail of particulars; but, to say the truth, I was too cross to write. 54You supposed more than really existed. 55But now suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. 56You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. 57I thank you again and again, for not going to the Lakes. 58How could I be so silly as to wish it! 59Your idea of the ponies is delightful. 60We will go round the park every day. 61I am the happiest creature in the world. 62Perhaps other people have said so before, but no one with such justice. 63I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. 64Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that can be spared from me. 65You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. 66Yours,” etc.

67Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style, and still different from either was what Mr. Bennet sent to Mr. Collins, in return for his last.

68“Dear Sir,

69“I must trouble you once more for congratulations. 70Elizabeth will soon be the wife of Mr. Darcy. 71Console Lady Catherine as well as you can. 72But, if I were you, I would stand by the nephew. 73He has more to give.

74“Yours sincerely,” etc.

75Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother on his approaching marriage were all that was affectionate and insincere. 76She wrote even to Jane on the occasion, to express her delight, and repeat all her former professions of regard. 77Jane was not deceived, but she was affected; and though feeling no reliance on her, could not help writing her a much kinder answer than she knew was deserved.

78The joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was as sincere as her brother’s in sending it. 79Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all her delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her sister.

80Before any answer could arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations to Elizabeth from his wife, the Longbourn family heard that the Collinses were come themselves to Lucas Lodge. 81The reason of this sudden removal was soon evident. 82Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly angry by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that Charlotte, really rejoicing in the match, was anxious to get away till the storm was blown over. 83At such a moment, the arrival of her friend was a sincere pleasure to Elizabeth, though in the course of their meetings she must sometimes think the pleasure dearly bought, when she saw Mr. Darcy exposed to all the parading and obsequious civility of her husband. 84He bore it, however, with admirable calmness. 85He could even listen to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away the brightest jewel of the country, and expressed his hopes of their all meeting frequently at St. James’s, with very decent composure. 86If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not till Sir William was out of sight.

87Mrs. Philips’s vulgarity was another, and, perhaps, a greater tax on his forbearance; and though Mrs. Philips, as well as her sister, stood in too much awe of him to speak with the familiarity which Bingley’s good-humour encouraged; yet, whenever she did speak, she must be vulgar. 88Nor was her respect for him, though it made her more quiet, at all likely to make her more elegant. 89Elizabeth did all she could to shield him from the frequent notice of either, and was ever anxious to keep him to herself, and to those of her family with whom he might converse without mortification; and though the uncomfortable feelings arising from all this took from the season of courtship much of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the future; and she looked forward with delight to the time when they should be removed from society so little pleasing to either, to all the comfort and elegance of their family party at Pemberley.