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  • HEART OF DARKNESS By Joseph Conrad – Part Two

    “One evening as I was lying flat on the deck of my steamboat, I heard voices approaching—and there were the nephew and the uncle strolling along the bank. I laid my head on my arm again, and had nearly lost myself in a doze, when somebody said in my ear, as it were: ‘I am as harmless as a little child, but I don’t like to be dictated to. Am I the manager—or am I not? I was ordered to send him there. It’s incredible.’ … I became aware that the two were standing on the shore alongside the forepart of the steamboat, just below my head. I did not move; it did not occur to me to move: I was sleepy. ‘It is unpleasant,’ grunted the uncle. ‘He has asked the Administration to be sent there,’ said the other, ‘with the idea of showing what he could do; and I was instructed accordingly. Look at the influence that man must have. Is it not frightful?’ They both agreed it was frightful, then made several bizarre remarks: ‘Make rain and fine weather—one man—the Council—by the nose’—bits of absurd sentences that got the better of my drowsiness, so that I had pretty near the whole of my wits about me when the uncle said, ‘The climate may do away with this difficulty for you. Is he alone there?’ ‘Yes,’ answered the manager; ‘he sent his assistant down the river with a note to me in these terms: “Clear this poor devil out of the country, and don’t bother sending more of that sort. I had rather be alone than have the kind of men you can dispose of with me.” It was more than a year ago. Can you imagine such impudence!’ ‘Anything since then?’ asked the other hoarsely. ‘Ivory,’ jerked the nephew; ‘lots of it—prime sort—lots—most annoying, from him.’ ‘And with that?’ questioned the heavy rumble. ‘Invoice,’ was the reply fired out, so to speak. Then silence. They had been talking about Kurtz.

    “I was broad awake by this time, but, lying perfectly at ease, remained still, having no inducement to change my position. ‘How did that ivory come all this way?’ growled the elder man, who seemed very vexed. The other explained that it had come with a fleet of canoes in charge of an English half-caste clerk Kurtz had with him; that Kurtz had apparently intended to return himself, the station being by that time bare of goods and stores, but after coming three hundred miles, had suddenly decided to go back, which he started to do alone in a small dugout with four paddlers, leaving the half-caste to continue down the river with the ivory. The two fellows there seemed astounded at anybody attempting such a thing. They were at a loss for an adequate motive. As to me, I seemed to see Kurtz for the first time. It was a distinct glimpse: the dugout, four paddling savages, and the lone white man turning his back suddenly on the headquarters, on relief, on thoughts of home—perhaps; setting his face towards the depths of the wilderness, towards his empty and desolate station. I did not know the motive. Perhaps he was just simply a fine fellow who stuck to his work for its own sake. His name, you understand, had not been pronounced once. He was ‘that man.’ The half-caste, who, as far as I could see, had conducted a difficult trip with great prudence and pluck, was invariably alluded to as ‘that scoundrel.’ The ‘scoundrel’ had reported that the ‘man’ had been very ill—had recovered imperfectly…. The two below me moved away then a few paces, and strolled back and forth at some little distance. I heard: ‘Military post—doctor—two hundred miles—quite alone now—unavoidable delays—nine months—no news—strange rumours.’ They approached again, just as the manager was saying, ‘No one, as far as I know, unless a species of wandering trader—a pestilential fellow, snapping ivory from the natives.’ Who was it they were talking about now? I gathered in snatches that this was some man supposed to be in Kurtz’s district, and of whom the manager did not approve. ‘We will not be free from unfair competition till one of these fellows is hanged for an example,’ he said. ‘Certainly,’ grunted the other; ‘get him hanged! Why not? Anything—anything can be done in this country. That’s what I say; nobody here, you understand, here, can endanger your position. And why? You stand the climate—you outlast them all. The danger is in Europe; but there before I left I took care to—’ They moved off and whispered, then their voices rose again. ‘The extraordinary series of delays is not my fault. I did my best.’ The fat man sighed. ‘Very sad.’ ‘And the pestiferous absurdity of his talk,’ continued the other; ‘he bothered me enough when he was here. “Each station should be like a beacon on the road towards better things, a centre for trade of course, but also for humanizing, improving, instructing.” Conceive you—that ass! And he wants to be manager! No, it’s—’ Here he got choked by excessive indignation, and I lifted my head the least bit. I was surprised to see how near they were—right under me. I could have spat upon their hats. They were looking on the ground, absorbed in thought. The manager was switching his leg with a slender twig: his sagacious relative lifted his head. ‘You have been well since you came out this time?’ he asked. The other gave a start. ‘Who? I? Oh! Like a charm—like a charm. But the rest—oh, my goodness! All sick. They die so quick, too, that I haven’t the time to send them out of the country—it’s incredible!’ ‘Hm’m. Just so,’ grunted the uncle. ‘Ah! my boy, trust to this—I say, trust to this.’ I saw him extend his short flipper of an arm for a gesture that took in the forest, the creek, the mud, the river—seemed to beckon with a dishonouring flourish before the sunlit face of the land a treacherous appeal to the lurking death, to the hidden evil, to the profound darkness of its heart. It was so startling that I leaped to my feet and looked back at the edge of the forest, as though I had expected an answer of some sort to that black display of confidence. You know the foolish notions that come to one sometimes. The high stillness confronted these two figures with its ominous patience, waiting for the passing away of a fantastic invasion.

    “They swore aloud together—out of sheer fright, I believe—then pretending not to know anything of my existence, turned back to the station. The sun was low; and leaning forward side by side, they seemed to be tugging painfully uphill their two ridiculous shadows of unequal length, that trailed behind them slowly over the tall grass without bending a single blade.

    “In a few days the Eldorado Expedition went into the patient wilderness, that closed upon it as the sea closes over a diver. Long afterwards the news came that all the donkeys were dead. I know nothing as to the fate of the less valuable animals. They, no doubt, like the rest of us, found what they deserved. I did not inquire. I was then rather excited at the prospect of meeting Kurtz very soon. When I say very soon I mean it comparatively. It was just two months from the day we left the creek when we came to the bank below Kurtz’s station.

    “Going up that river was like traveling back to the earliest beginnings of the world, when vegetation rioted on the earth and the big trees were kings. An empty stream, a great silence, an impenetrable forest. The air was warm, thick, heavy, sluggish. There was no joy in the brilliance of sunshine. The long stretches of the waterway ran on, deserted, into the gloom of overshadowed distances. On silvery sand-banks hippos and alligators sunned themselves side by side. The broadening waters flowed through a mob of wooded islands; you lost your way on that river as you would in a desert, and butted all day long against shoals, trying to find the channel, till you thought yourself bewitched and cut off for ever from everything you had known once—somewhere—far away—in another existence perhaps. There were moments when one’s past came back to one, as it will sometimes when you have not a moment to spare for yourself; but it came in the shape of an unrestful and noisy dream, remembered with wonder amongst the overwhelming realities of this strange world of plants, and water, and silence. And this stillness of life did not in the least resemble a peace. It was the stillness of an implacable force brooding over an inscrutable intention. It looked at you with a vengeful aspect. I got used to it afterwards; I did not see it any more; I had no time. I had to keep guessing at the channel; I had to discern, mostly by inspiration, the signs of hidden banks; I watched for sunken stones; I was learning to clap my teeth smartly before my heart flew out, when I shaved by a fluke some infernal sly old snag that would have ripped the life out of the tin-pot steamboat and drowned all the pilgrims; I had to keep a lookout for the signs of dead wood we could cut up in the night for next day’s steaming. When you have to attend to things of that sort, to the mere incidents of the surface, the reality—the reality, I tell you—fades. The inner truth is hidden—luckily, luckily. But I felt it all the same; I felt often its mysterious stillness watching me at my monkey tricks, just as it watches you fellows performing on your respective tight-ropes for—what is it? half-a-crown a tumble—”

    “Try to be civil, Marlow,” growled a voice, and I knew there was at least one listener awake besides myself.

    “I beg your pardon. I forgot the heartache which makes up the rest of the price. And indeed what does the price matter, if the trick be well done? You do your tricks very well. And I didn’t do badly either, since I managed not to sink that steamboat on my first trip. It’s a wonder to me yet. Imagine a blindfolded man set to drive a van over a bad road. I sweated and shivered over that business considerably, I can tell you. After all, for a seaman, to scrape the bottom of the thing that’s supposed to float all the time under his care is the unpardonable sin. No one may know of it, but you never forget the thump—eh? A blow on the very heart. You remember it, you dream of it, you wake up at night and think of it—years after—and go hot and cold all over. I don’t pretend to say that steamboat floated all the time. More than once she had to wade for a bit, with twenty cannibals splashing around and pushing. We had enlisted some of these chaps on the way for a crew. Fine fellows—cannibals—in their place. They were men one could work with, and I am grateful to them. And, after all, they did not eat each other before my face: they had brought along a provision of hippo-meat which went rotten, and made the mystery of the wilderness stink in my nostrils. Phoo! I can sniff it now. I had the manager on board and three or four pilgrims with their staves—all complete. Sometimes we came upon a station close by the bank, clinging to the skirts of the unknown, and the white men rushing out of a tumble-down hovel, with great gestures of joy and surprise and welcome, seemed very strange—had the appearance of being held there captive by a spell. The word ivory would ring in the air for a while—and on we went again into the silence, along empty reaches, round the still bends, between the high walls of our winding way, reverberating in hollow claps the ponderous beat of the stern-wheel. Trees, trees, millions of trees, massive, immense, running up high; and at their foot, hugging the bank against the stream, crept the little begrimed steamboat, like a sluggish beetle crawling on the floor of a lofty portico. It made you feel very small, very lost, and yet it was not altogether depressing, that feeling. After all, if you were small, the grimy beetle crawled on—which was just what you wanted it to do. Where the pilgrims imagined it crawled to I don’t know. To some place where they expected to get something. I bet! For me it crawled towards Kurtz—exclusively; but when the steam-pipes started leaking we crawled very slow. The reaches opened before us and closed behind, as if the forest had stepped leisurely across the water to bar the way for our return. We penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of darkness. It was very quiet there. At night sometimes the roll of drums behind the curtain of trees would run up the river and remain sustained faintly, as if hovering in the air high over our heads, till the first break of day. Whether it meant war, peace, or prayer we could not tell. The dawns were heralded by the descent of a chill stillness; the wood-cutters slept, their fires burned low; the snapping of a twig would make you start. We were wanderers on a prehistoric earth, on an earth that wore the aspect of an unknown planet. We could have fancied ourselves the first of men taking possession of an accursed inheritance, to be subdued at the cost of profound anguish and of excessive toil. But suddenly, as we struggled round a bend, there would be a glimpse of rush walls, of peaked grass-roofs, a burst of yells, a whirl of black limbs, a mass of hands clapping of feet stamping, of bodies swaying, of eyes rolling, under the droop of heavy and motionless foliage. The steamer toiled along slowly on the edge of a black and incomprehensible frenzy. The prehistoric man was cursing us, praying to us, welcoming us—who could tell? We were cut off from the comprehension of our surroundings; we glided past like phantoms, wondering and secretly appalled, as sane men would be before an enthusiastic outbreak in a madhouse. We could not understand because we were too far and could not remember because we were travelling in the night of first ages, of those ages that are gone, leaving hardly a sign—and no memories.

    “The earth seemed unearthly. We are accustomed to look upon the shackled form of a conquered monster, but there—there you could look at a thing monstrous and free. It was unearthly, and the men were—No, they were not inhuman. Well, you know, that was the worst of it—this suspicion of their not being inhuman. It would come slowly to one. They howled and leaped, and spun, and made horrid faces; but what thrilled you was just the thought of their humanity—like yours—the thought of your remote kinship with this wild and passionate uproar. Ugly. Yes, it was ugly enough; but if you were man enough you would admit to yourself that there was in you just the faintest trace of a response to the terrible frankness of that noise, a dim suspicion of there being a meaning in it which you—you so remote from the night of first ages—could comprehend. And why not? The mind of man is capable of anything—because everything is in it, all the past as well as all the future. What was there after all? Joy, fear, sorrow, devotion, valour, rage—who can tell?—but truth—truth stripped of its cloak of time. Let the fool gape and shudder—the man knows, and can look on without a wink. But he must at least be as much of a man as these on the shore. He must meet that truth with his own true stuff—with his own inborn strength. Principles won’t do. Acquisitions, clothes, pretty rags—rags that would fly off at the first good shake. No; you want a deliberate belief. An appeal to me in this fiendish row—is there? Very well; I hear; I admit, but I have a voice, too, and for good or evil mine is the speech that cannot be silenced. Of course, a fool, what with sheer fright and fine sentiments, is always safe. Who’s that grunting? You wonder I didn’t go ashore for a howl and a dance? Well, no—I didn’t. Fine sentiments, you say? Fine sentiments, be hanged! I had no time. I had to mess about with white-lead and strips of woolen blanket helping to put bandages on those leaky steam-pipes—I tell you. I had to watch the steering, and circumvent those snags, and get the tin-pot along by hook or by crook. There was surface-truth enough in these things to save a wiser man. And between whiles I had to look after the savage who was fireman. He was an improved specimen; he could fire up a vertical boiler. He was there below me, and, upon my word, to look at him was as edifying as seeing a dog in a parody of breeches and a feather hat, walking on his hind-legs. A few months of training had done for that really fine chap. He squinted at the steam-gauge and at the water-gauge with an evident effort of intrepidity—and he had filed teeth, too, the poor devil, and the wool of his pate shaved into queer patterns, and three ornamental scars on each of his cheeks. He ought to have been clapping his hands and stamping his feet on the bank, instead of which he was hard at work, a thrall to strange witchcraft, full of improving knowledge. He was useful because he had been instructed; and what he knew was this—that should the water in that transparent thing disappear, the evil spirit inside the boiler would get angry through the greatness of his thirst, and take a terrible vengeance. So he sweated and fired up and watched the glass fearfully (with an impromptu charm, made of rags, tied to his arm, and a piece of polished bone, as big as a watch, stuck flatways through his lower lip), while the wooded banks slipped past us slowly, the short noise was left behind, the interminable miles of silence—and we crept on, towards Kurtz. But the snags were thick, the water was treacherous and shallow, the boiler seemed indeed to have a sulky devil in it, and thus neither that fireman nor I had any time to peer into our creepy thoughts.

    “Some fifty miles below the Inner Station we came upon a hut of reeds, an inclined and melancholy pole, with the unrecognizable tatters of what had been a flag of some sort flying from it, and a neatly stacked wood-pile. This was unexpected. We came to the bank, and on the stack of firewood found a flat piece of board with some faded pencil-writing on it. When deciphered it said: ‘Wood for you. Hurry up. Approach cautiously.’ There was a signature, but it was illegible—not Kurtz—a much longer word. ‘Hurry up.’ Where? Up the river? ‘Approach cautiously.’ We had not done so. But the warning could not have been meant for the place where it could be only found after approach. Something was wrong above. But what—and how much? That was the question. We commented adversely upon the imbecility of that telegraphic style. The bush around said nothing, and would not let us look very far, either. A torn curtain of red twill hung in the doorway of the hut, and flapped sadly in our faces. The dwelling was dismantled; but we could see a white man had lived there not very long ago. There remained a rude table—a plank on two posts; a heap of rubbish reposed in a dark corner, and by the door I picked up a book. It had lost its covers, and the pages had been thumbed into a state of extremely dirty softness; but the back had been lovingly stitched afresh with white cotton thread, which looked clean yet. It was an extraordinary find. Its title was, An Inquiry into some Points of Seamanship, by a man Towser, Towson—some such name—Master in his Majesty’s Navy. The matter looked dreary reading enough, with illustrative diagrams and repulsive tables of figures, and the copy was sixty years old. I handled this amazing antiquity with the greatest possible tenderness, lest it should dissolve in my hands. Within, Towson or Towser was inquiring earnestly into the breaking strain of ships’ chains and tackle, and other such matters. Not a very enthralling book; but at the first glance you could see there a singleness of intention, an honest concern for the right way of going to work, which made these humble pages, thought out so many years ago, luminous with another than a professional light. The simple old sailor, with his talk of chains and purchases, made me forget the jungle and the pilgrims in a delicious sensation of having come upon something unmistakably real. Such a book being there was wonderful enough; but still more astounding were the notes pencilled in the margin, and plainly referring to the text. I couldn’t believe my eyes! They were in cipher! Yes, it looked like cipher. Fancy a man lugging with him a book of that description into this nowhere and studying it—and making notes—in cipher at that! It was an extravagant mystery.

    “I had been dimly aware for some time of a worrying noise, and when I lifted my eyes I saw the wood-pile was gone, and the manager, aided by all the pilgrims, was shouting at me from the riverside. I slipped the book into my pocket. I assure you to leave off reading was like tearing myself away from the shelter of an old and solid friendship.

    “I started the lame engine ahead. ‘It must be this miserable trader—this intruder,’ exclaimed the manager, looking back malevolently at the place we had left. ‘He must be English,’ I said. ‘It will not save him from getting into trouble if he is not careful,’ muttered the manager darkly. I observed with assumed innocence that no man was safe from trouble in this world.

    “The current was more rapid now, the steamer seemed at her last gasp, the stern-wheel flopped languidly, and I caught myself listening on tiptoe for the next beat of the boat, for in sober truth I expected the wretched thing to give up every moment. It was like watching the last flickers of a life. But still we crawled. Sometimes I would pick out a tree a little way ahead to measure our progress towards Kurtz by, but I lost it invariably before we got abreast. To keep the eyes so long on one thing was too much for human patience. The manager displayed a beautiful resignation. I fretted and fumed and took to arguing with myself whether or no I would talk openly with Kurtz; but before I could come to any conclusion it occurred to me that my speech or my silence, indeed any action of mine, would be a mere futility. What did it matter what any one knew or ignored? What did it matter who was manager? One gets sometimes such a flash of insight. The essentials of this affair lay deep under the surface, beyond my reach, and beyond my power of meddling.

    “Towards the evening of the second day we judged ourselves about eight miles from Kurtz’s station. I wanted to push on; but the manager looked grave, and told me the navigation up there was so dangerous that it would be advisable, the sun being very low already, to wait where we were till next morning. Moreover, he pointed out that if the warning to approach cautiously were to be followed, we must approach in daylight—not at dusk or in the dark. This was sensible enough. Eight miles meant nearly three hours’ steaming for us, and I could also see suspicious ripples at the upper end of the reach. Nevertheless, I was annoyed beyond expression at the delay, and most unreasonably, too, since one night more could not matter much after so many months. As we had plenty of wood, and caution was the word, I brought up in the middle of the stream. The reach was narrow, straight, with high sides like a railway cutting. The dusk came gliding into it long before the sun had set. The current ran smooth and swift, but a dumb immobility sat on the banks. The living trees, lashed together by the creepers and every living bush of the undergrowth, might have been changed into stone, even to the slenderest twig, to the lightest leaf. It was not sleep—it seemed unnatural, like a state of trance. Not the faintest sound of any kind could be heard. You looked on amazed, and began to suspect yourself of being deaf—then the night came suddenly, and struck you blind as well. About three in the morning some large fish leaped, and the loud splash made me jump as though a gun had been fired. When the sun rose there was a white fog, very warm and clammy, and more blinding than the night. It did not shift or drive; it was just there, standing all round you like something solid. At eight or nine, perhaps, it lifted as a shutter lifts. We had a glimpse of the towering multitude of trees, of the immense matted jungle, with the blazing little ball of the sun hanging over it—all perfectly still—and then the white shutter came down again, smoothly, as if sliding in greased grooves. I ordered the chain, which we had begun to heave in, to be paid out again. Before it stopped running with a muffled rattle, a cry, a very loud cry, as of infinite desolation, soared slowly in the opaque air. It ceased. A complaining clamour, modulated in savage discords, filled our ears. The sheer unexpectedness of it made my hair stir under my cap. I don’t know how it struck the others: to me it seemed as though the mist itself had screamed, so suddenly, and apparently from all sides at once, did this tumultuous and mournful uproar arise. It culminated in a hurried outbreak of almost intolerably excessive shrieking, which stopped short, leaving us stiffened in a variety of silly attitudes, and obstinately listening to the nearly as appalling and excessive silence. ‘Good God! What is the meaning—’ stammered at my elbow one of the pilgrims—a little fat man, with sandy hair and red whiskers, who wore sidespring boots, and pink pyjamas tucked into his socks. Two others remained open-mouthed a while minute, then dashed into the little cabin, to rush out incontinently and stand darting scared glances, with Winchesters at ‘ready’ in their hands. What we could see was just the steamer we were on, her outlines blurred as though she had been on the point of dissolving, and a misty strip of water, perhaps two feet broad, around her—and that was all. The rest of the world was nowhere, as far as our eyes and ears were concerned. Just nowhere. Gone, disappeared; swept off without leaving a whisper or a shadow behind.

    “I went forward, and ordered the chain to be hauled in short, so as to be ready to trip the anchor and move the steamboat at once if necessary. ‘Will they attack?’ whispered an awed voice. ‘We will be all butchered in this fog,’ murmured another. The faces twitched with the strain, the hands trembled slightly, the eyes forgot to wink. It was very curious to see the contrast of expressions of the white men and of the black fellows of our crew, who were as much strangers to that part of the river as we, though their homes were only eight hundred miles away. The whites, of course greatly discomposed, had besides a curious look of being painfully shocked by such an outrageous row. The others had an alert, naturally interested expression; but their faces were essentially quiet, even those of the one or two who grinned as they hauled at the chain. Several exchanged short, grunting phrases, which seemed to settle the matter to their satisfaction. Their headman, a young, broad-chested black, severely draped in dark-blue fringed cloths, with fierce nostrils and his hair all done up artfully in oily ringlets, stood near me. ‘Aha!’ I said, just for good fellowship’s sake. ‘Catch ‘im,’ he snapped, with a bloodshot widening of his eyes and a flash of sharp teeth—‘catch ‘im. Give ‘im to us.’ ‘To you, eh?’ I asked; ‘what would you do with them?’ ‘Eat ‘im!’ he said curtly, and, leaning his elbow on the rail, looked out into the fog in a dignified and profoundly pensive attitude. I would no doubt have been properly horrified, had it not occurred to me that he and his chaps must be very hungry: that they must have been growing increasingly hungry for at least this month past. They had been engaged for six months (I don’t think a single one of them had any clear idea of time, as we at the end of countless ages have. They still belonged to the beginnings of time—had no inherited experience to teach them as it were), and of course, as long as there was a piece of paper written over in accordance with some farcical law or other made down the river, it didn’t enter anybody’s head to trouble how they would live. Certainly they had brought with them some rotten hippo-meat, which couldn’t have lasted very long, anyway, even if the pilgrims hadn’t, in the midst of a shocking hullabaloo, thrown a considerable quantity of it overboard. It looked like a high-handed proceeding; but it was really a case of legitimate self-defence. You can’t breathe dead hippo waking, sleeping, and eating, and at the same time keep your precarious grip on existence. Besides that, they had given them every week three pieces of brass wire, each about nine inches long; and the theory was they were to buy their provisions with that currency in riverside villages. You can see how that worked. There were either no villages, or the people were hostile, or the director, who like the rest of us fed out of tins, with an occasional old he-goat thrown in, didn’t want to stop the steamer for some more or less recondite reason. So, unless they swallowed the wire itself, or made loops of it to snare the fishes with, I don’t see what good their extravagant salary could be to them. I must say it was paid with a regularity worthy of a large and honourable trading company. For the rest, the only thing to eat—though it didn’t look eatable in the least—I saw in their possession was a few lumps of some stuff like half-cooked dough, of a dirty lavender colour, they kept wrapped in leaves, and now and then swallowed a piece of, but so small that it seemed done more for the looks of the thing than for any serious purpose of sustenance. Why in the name of all the gnawing devils of hunger they didn’t go for us—they were thirty to five—and have a good tuck-in for once, amazes me now when I think of it. They were big powerful men, with not much capacity to weigh the consequences, with courage, with strength, even yet, though their skins were no longer glossy and their muscles no longer hard. And I saw that something restraining, one of those human secrets that baffle probability, had come into play there. I looked at them with a swift quickening of interest—not because it occurred to me I might be eaten by them before very long, though I own to you that just then I perceived—in a new light, as it were—how unwholesome the pilgrims looked, and I hoped, yes, I positively hoped, that my aspect was not so—what shall I say?—so—unappetizing: a touch of fantastic vanity which fitted well with the dream-sensation that pervaded all my days at that time. Perhaps I had a little fever, too. One can’t live with one’s finger everlastingly on one’s pulse. I had often ‘a little fever,’ or a little touch of other things—the playful paw-strokes of the wilderness, the preliminary trifling before the more serious onslaught which came in due course. Yes; I looked at them as you would on any human being, with a curiosity of their impulses, motives, capacities, weaknesses, when brought to the test of an inexorable physical necessity. Restraint! What possible restraint? Was it superstition, disgust, patience, fear—or some kind of primitive honour? No fear can stand up to hunger, no patience can wear it out, disgust simply does not exist where hunger is; and as to superstition, beliefs, and what you may call principles, they are less than chaff in a breeze. Don’t you know the devilry of lingering starvation, its exasperating torment, its black thoughts, its sombre and brooding ferocity? Well, I do. It takes a man all his inborn strength to fight hunger properly. It’s really easier to face bereavement, dishonour, and the perdition of one’s soul—than this kind of prolonged hunger. Sad, but true. And these chaps, too, had no earthly reason for any kind of scruple. Restraint! I would just as soon have expected restraint from a hyena prowling amongst the corpses of a battlefield. But there was the fact facing me—the fact dazzling, to be seen, like the foam on the depths of the sea, like a ripple on an unfathomable enigma, a mystery greater—when I thought of it—than the curious, inexplicable note of desperate grief in this savage clamour that had swept by us on the river-bank, behind the blind whiteness of the fog.

    “Two pilgrims were quarrelling in hurried whispers as to which bank. ‘Left.’ ‘no, no; how can you? Right, right, of course.’ ‘It is very serious,’ said the manager’s voice behind me; ‘I would be desolated if anything should happen to Mr. Kurtz before we came up.’ I looked at him, and had not the slightest doubt he was sincere. He was just the kind of man who would wish to preserve appearances. That was his restraint. But when he muttered something about going on at once, I did not even take the trouble to answer him. I knew, and he knew, that it was impossible. Were we to let go our hold of the bottom, we would be absolutely in the air—in space. We wouldn’t be able to tell where we were going to—whether up or down stream, or across—till we fetched against one bank or the other—and then we wouldn’t know at first which it was. Of course I made no move. I had no mind for a smash-up. You couldn’t imagine a more deadly place for a shipwreck. Whether we drowned at once or not, we were sure to perish speedily in one way or another. ‘I authorize you to take all the risks,’ he said, after a short silence. ‘I refuse to take any,’ I said shortly; which was just the answer he expected, though its tone might have surprised him. ‘Well, I must defer to your judgment. You are captain,’ he said with marked civility. I turned my shoulder to him in sign of my appreciation, and looked into the fog. How long would it last? It was the most hopeless lookout. The approach to this Kurtz grubbing for ivory in the wretched bush was beset by as many dangers as though he had been an enchanted princess sleeping in a fabulous castle. ‘Will they attack, do you think?’ asked the manager, in a confidential tone.

    “I did not think they would attack, for several obvious reasons. The thick fog was one. If they left the bank in their canoes they would get lost in it, as we would be if we attempted to move. Still, I had also judged the jungle of both banks quite impenetrable—and yet eyes were in it, eyes that had seen us. The riverside bushes were certainly very thick; but the undergrowth behind was evidently penetrable. However, during the short lift I had seen no canoes anywhere in the reach—certainly not abreast of the steamer. But what made the idea of attack inconceivable to me was the nature of the noise—of the cries we had heard. They had not the fierce character boding immediate hostile intention. Unexpected, wild, and violent as they had been, they had given me an irresistible impression of sorrow. The glimpse of the steamboat had for some reason filled those savages with unrestrained grief. The danger, if any, I expounded, was from our proximity to a great human passion let loose. Even extreme grief may ultimately vent itself in violence—but more generally takes the form of apathy….

    “You should have seen the pilgrims stare! They had no heart to grin, or even to revile me: but I believe they thought me gone mad—with fright, maybe. I delivered a regular lecture. My dear boys, it was no good bothering. Keep a lookout? Well, you may guess I watched the fog for the signs of lifting as a cat watches a mouse; but for anything else our eyes were of no more use to us than if we had been buried miles deep in a heap of cotton-wool. It felt like it, too—choking, warm, stifling. Besides, all I said, though it sounded extravagant, was absolutely true to fact. What we afterwards alluded to as an attack was really an attempt at repulse. The action was very far from being aggressive—it was not even defensive, in the usual sense: it was undertaken under the stress of desperation, and in its essence was purely protective.

    “It developed itself, I should say, two hours after the fog lifted, and its commencement was at a spot, roughly speaking, about a mile and a half below Kurtz’s station. We had just floundered and flopped round a bend, when I saw an islet, a mere grassy hummock of bright green, in the middle of the stream. It was the only thing of the kind; but as we opened the reach more, I perceived it was the head of a long sand-bank, or rather of a chain of shallow patches stretching down the middle of the river. They were discoloured, just awash, and the whole lot was seen just under the water, exactly as a man’s backbone is seen running down the middle of his back under the skin. Now, as far as I did see, I could go to the right or to the left of this. I didn’t know either channel, of course. The banks looked pretty well alike, the depth appeared the same; but as I had been informed the station was on the west side, I naturally headed for the western passage.

    “No sooner had we fairly entered it than I became aware it was much narrower than I had supposed. To the left of us there was the long uninterrupted shoal, and to the right a high, steep bank heavily overgrown with bushes. Above the bush the trees stood in serried ranks. The twigs overhung the current thickly, and from distance to distance a large limb of some tree projected rigidly over the stream. It was then well on in the afternoon, the face of the forest was gloomy, and a broad strip of shadow had already fallen on the water. In this shadow we steamed up—very slowly, as you may imagine. I sheered her well inshore—the water being deepest near the bank, as the sounding-pole informed me.

    “One of my hungry and forbearing friends was sounding in the bows just below me. This steamboat was exactly like a decked scow. On the deck, there were two little teakwood houses, with doors and windows. The boiler was in the fore-end, and the machinery right astern. Over the whole there was a light roof, supported on stanchions. The funnel projected through that roof, and in front of the funnel a small cabin built of light planks served for a pilot-house. It contained a couch, two camp-stools, a loaded Martini-Henry leaning in one corner, a tiny table, and the steering-wheel. It had a wide door in front and a broad shutter at each side. All these were always thrown open, of course. I spent my days perched up there on the extreme fore-end of that roof, before the door. At night I slept, or tried to, on the couch. An athletic black belonging to some coast tribe and educated by my poor predecessor, was the helmsman. He sported a pair of brass earrings, wore a blue cloth wrapper from the waist to the ankles, and thought all the world of himself. He was the most unstable kind of fool I had ever seen. He steered with no end of a swagger while you were by; but if he lost sight of you, he became instantly the prey of an abject funk, and would let that cripple of a steamboat get the upper hand of him in a minute.

    “I was looking down at the sounding-pole, and feeling much annoyed to see at each try a little more of it stick out of that river, when I saw my poleman give up on the business suddenly, and stretch himself flat on the deck, without even taking the trouble to haul his pole in. He kept hold on it though, and it trailed in the water. At the same time the fireman, whom I could also see below me, sat down abruptly before his furnace and ducked his head. I was amazed. Then I had to look at the river mighty quick, because there was a snag in the fairway. Sticks, little sticks, were flying about—thick: they were whizzing before my nose, dropping below me, striking behind me against my pilot-house. All this time the river, the shore, the woods, were very quiet—perfectly quiet. I could only hear the heavy splashing thump of the stern-wheel and the patter of these things. We cleared the snag clumsily. Arrows, by Jove! We were being shot at! I stepped in quickly to close the shutter on the landside. That fool-helmsman, his hands on the spokes, was lifting his knees high, stamping his feet, champing his mouth, like a reined-in horse. Confound him! And we were staggering within ten feet of the bank. I had to lean right out to swing the heavy shutter, and I saw a face amongst the leaves on the level with my own, looking at me very fierce and steady; and then suddenly, as though a veil had been removed from my eyes, I made out, deep in the tangled gloom, naked breasts, arms, legs, glaring eyes—the bush was swarming with human limbs in movement, glistening of bronze colour. The twigs shook, swayed, and rustled, the arrows flew out of them, and then the shutter came to. ‘Steer her straight,’ I said to the helmsman. He held his head rigid, face forward; but his eyes rolled, he kept on lifting and setting down his feet gently, his mouth foamed a little. ‘Keep quiet!’ I said in a fury. I might just as well have ordered a tree not to sway in the wind. I darted out. Below me there was a great scuffle of feet on the iron deck; confused exclamations; a voice screamed, ‘Can you turn back?’ I caught sight of a V-shaped ripple on the water ahead. What? Another snag! A fusillade burst out under my feet. The pilgrims had opened with their Winchesters, and were simply squirting lead into that bush. A deuce of a lot of smoke came up and drove slowly forward. I swore at it. Now I couldn’t see the ripple or the snag either. I stood in the doorway, peering, and the arrows came in swarms. They might have been poisoned, but they looked as though they wouldn’t kill a cat. The bush began to howl. Our wood-cutters raised a warlike whoop; the report of a rifle just at my back deafened me. I glanced over my shoulder, and the pilot-house was yet full of noise and smoke when I made a dash at the wheel. The fool-nigger had dropped everything, to throw the shutter open and let off that Martini-Henry. He stood before the wide opening, glaring, and I yelled at him to come back, while I straightened the sudden twist out of that steamboat. There was no room to turn even if I had wanted to, the snag was somewhere very near ahead in that confounded smoke, there was no time to lose, so I just crowded her into the bank—right into the bank, where I knew the water was deep.

    “We tore slowly along the overhanging bushes in a whirl of broken twigs and flying leaves. The fusillade below stopped short, as I had foreseen it would when the squirts got empty. I threw my head back to a glinting whizz that traversed the pilot-house, in at one shutter-hole and out at the other. Looking past that mad helmsman, who was shaking the empty rifle and yelling at the shore, I saw vague forms of men running bent double, leaping, gliding, distinct, incomplete, evanescent. Something big appeared in the air before the shutter, the rifle went overboard, and the man stepped back swiftly, looked at me over his shoulder in an extraordinary, profound, familiar manner, and fell upon my feet. The side of his head hit the wheel twice, and the end of what appeared a long cane clattered round and knocked over a little camp-stool. It looked as though after wrenching that thing from somebody ashore he had lost his balance in the effort. The thin smoke had blown away, we were clear of the snag, and looking ahead I could see that in another hundred yards or so I would be free to sheer off, away from the bank; but my feet felt so very warm and wet that I had to look down. The man had rolled on his back and stared straight up at me; both his hands clutched that cane. It was the shaft of a spear that, either thrown or lunged through the opening, had caught him in the side, just below the ribs; the blade had gone in out of sight, after making a frightful gash; my shoes were full; a pool of blood lay very still, gleaming dark-red under the wheel; his eyes shone with an amazing lustre. The fusillade burst out again. He looked at me anxiously, gripping the spear like something precious, with an air of being afraid I would try to take it away from him. I had to make an effort to free my eyes from his gaze and attend to the steering. With one hand I felt above my head for the line of the steam whistle, and jerked out screech after screech hurriedly. The tumult of angry and warlike yells was checked instantly, and then from the depths of the woods went out such a tremulous and prolonged wail of mournful fear and utter despair as may be imagined to follow the flight of the last hope from the earth. There was a great commotion in the bush; the shower of arrows stopped, a few dropping shots rang out sharply—then silence, in which the languid beat of the stern-wheel came plainly to my ears. I put the helm hard a-starboard at the moment when the pilgrim in pink pyjamas, very hot and agitated, appeared in the doorway. ‘The manager sends me—’ he began in an official tone, and stopped short. ‘Good God!’ he said, glaring at the wounded man.

    “We two whites stood over him, and his lustrous and inquiring glance enveloped us both. I declare it looked as though he would presently put to us some questions in an understandable language; but he died without uttering a sound, without moving a limb, without twitching a muscle. Only in the very last moment, as though in response to some sign we could not see, to some whisper we could not hear, he frowned heavily, and that frown gave to his black death-mask an inconceivably sombre, brooding, and menacing expression. The lustre of inquiring glance faded swiftly into vacant glassiness. ‘Can you steer?’ I asked the agent eagerly. He looked very dubious; but I made a grab at his arm, and he understood at once I meant him to steer whether or no. To tell you the truth, I was morbidly anxious to change my shoes and socks. ‘He is dead,’ murmured the fellow, immensely impressed. ‘No doubt about it,’ said I, tugging like mad at the shoe-laces. ‘And by the way, I suppose Mr. Kurtz is dead as well by this time.’

    “For the moment that was the dominant thought. There was a sense of extreme disappointment, as though I had found out I had been striving after something altogether without a substance. I couldn’t have been more disgusted if I had travelled all this way for the sole purpose of talking with Mr. Kurtz. Talking with… I flung one shoe overboard, and became aware that that was exactly what I had been looking forward to—a talk with Kurtz. I made the strange discovery that I had never imagined him as doing, you know, but as discoursing. I didn’t say to myself, ‘Now I will never see him,’ or ‘Now I will never shake him by the hand,’ but, ‘Now I will never hear him.’ The man presented himself as a voice. Not of course that I did not connect him with some sort of action. Hadn’t I been told in all the tones of jealousy and admiration that he had collected, bartered, swindled, or stolen more ivory than all the other agents together? That was not the point. The point was in his being a gifted creature, and that of all his gifts the one that stood out preeminently, that carried with it a sense of real presence, was his ability to talk, his words—the gift of expression, the bewildering, the illuminating, the most exalted and the most contemptible, the pulsating stream of light, or the deceitful flow from the heart of an impenetrable darkness.

    “The other shoe went flying unto the devil-god of that river. I thought, ‘By Jove! it’s all over. We are too late; he has vanished—the gift has vanished, by means of some spear, arrow, or club. I will never hear that chap speak after all’—and my sorrow had a startling extravagance of emotion, even such as I had noticed in the howling sorrow of these savages in the bush. I couldn’t have felt more of lonely desolation somehow, had I been robbed of a belief or had missed my destiny in life…. Why do you sigh in this beastly way, somebody? Absurd? Well, absurd. Good Lord! mustn’t a man ever—Here, give me some tobacco.”…

    There was a pause of profound stillness, then a match flared, and Marlow’s lean face appeared, worn, hollow, with downward folds and dropped eyelids, with an aspect of concentrated attention; and as he took vigorous draws at his pipe, it seemed to retreat and advance out of the night in the regular flicker of tiny flame. The match went out.

    “Absurd!” he cried. “This is the worst of trying to tell…. Here you all are, each moored with two good addresses, like a hulk with two anchors, a butcher round one corner, a policeman round another, excellent appetites, and temperature normal—you hear—normal from year’s end to year’s end. And you say, Absurd! Absurd be—exploded! Absurd! My dear boys, what can you expect from a man who out of sheer nervousness had just flung overboard a pair of new shoes! Now I think of it, it is amazing I did not shed tears. I am, upon the whole, proud of my fortitude. I was cut to the quick at the idea of having lost the inestimable privilege of listening to the gifted Kurtz. Of course I was wrong. The privilege was waiting for me. Oh, yes, I heard more than enough. And I was right, too. A voice. He was very little more than a voice. And I heard—him—it—this voice—other voices—all of them were so little more than voices—and the memory of that time itself lingers around me, impalpable, like a dying vibration of one immense jabber, silly, atrocious, sordid, savage, or simply mean, without any kind of sense. Voices, voices—even the girl herself—now—”

    He was silent for a long time.

    “I laid the ghost of his gifts at last with a lie,” he began, suddenly. “Girl! What? Did I mention a girl? Oh, she is out of it—completely. They—the women, I mean—are out of it—should be out of it. We must help them to stay in that beautiful world of their own, lest ours gets worse. Oh, she had to be out of it. You should have heard the disinterred body of Mr. Kurtz saying, ‘My Intended.’ You would have perceived directly then how completely she was out of it. And the lofty frontal bone of Mr. Kurtz! They say the hair goes on growing sometimes, but this—ah—specimen, was impressively bald. The wilderness had patted him on the head, and, behold, it was like a ball—an ivory ball; it had caressed him, and—lo!—he had withered; it had taken him, loved him, embraced him, got into his veins, consumed his flesh, and sealed his soul to its own by the inconceivable ceremonies of some devilish initiation. He was its spoiled and pampered favourite. Ivory? I should think so. Heaps of it, stacks of it. The old mud shanty was bursting with it. You would think there was not a single tusk left either above or below the ground in the whole country. ‘Mostly fossil,’ the manager had remarked, disparagingly. It was no more fossil than I am; but they call it fossil when it is dug up. It appears these niggers do bury the tusks sometimes—but evidently they couldn’t bury this parcel deep enough to save the gifted Mr. Kurtz from his fate. We filled the steamboat with it, and had to pile a lot on the deck. Thus he could see and enjoy as long as he could see, because the appreciation of this favour had remained with him to the last. You should have heard him say, ‘My ivory.’ Oh, yes, I heard him. ‘My Intended, my ivory, my station, my river, my—’ everything belonged to him. It made me hold my breath in expectation of hearing the wilderness burst into a prodigious peal of laughter that would shake the fixed stars in their places. Everything belonged to him—but that was a trifle. The thing was to know what he belonged to, how many powers of darkness claimed him for their own. That was the reflection that made you creepy all over. It was impossible—it was not good for one either—trying to imagine. He had taken a high seat amongst the devils of the land—I mean literally. You can’t understand. How could you?—with solid pavement under your feet, surrounded by kind neighbours ready to cheer you or to fall on you, stepping delicately between the butcher and the policeman, in the holy terror of scandal and gallows and lunatic asylums—how can you imagine what particular region of the first ages a man’s untrammelled feet may take him into by the way of solitude—utter solitude without a policeman—by the way of silence—utter silence, where no warning voice of a kind neighbour can be heard whispering of public opinion? These little things make all the great difference. When they are gone you must fall back upon your own innate strength, upon your own capacity for faithfulness. Of course you may be too much of a fool to go wrong—too dull even to know you are being assaulted by the powers of darkness. I take it, no fool ever made a bargain for his soul with the devil; the fool is too much of a fool, or the devil too much of a devil—I don’t know which. Or you may be such a thunderingly exalted creature as to be altogether deaf and blind to anything but heavenly sights and sounds. Then the earth for you is only a standing place—and whether to be like this is your loss or your gain I won’t pretend to say. But most of us are neither one nor the other. The earth for us is a place to live in, where we must put up with sights, with sounds, with smells, too, by Jove!—breathe dead hippo, so to speak, and not be contaminated. And there, don’t you see? Your strength comes in, the faith in your ability for the digging of unostentatious holes to bury the stuff in—your power of devotion, not to yourself, but to an obscure, back-breaking business. And that’s difficult enough. Mind, I am not trying to excuse or even explain—I am trying to account to myself for—for—Mr. Kurtz—for the shade of Mr. Kurtz. This initiated wraith from the back of Nowhere honoured me with its amazing confidence before it vanished altogether. This was because it could speak English to me. The original Kurtz had been educated partly in England, and—as he was good enough to say himself—his sympathies were in the right place. His mother was half-English, his father was half-French. All Europe contributed to the making of Kurtz; and by and by I learned that, most appropriately, the International Society for the Suppression of Savage Customs had intrusted him with the making of a report, for its future guidance. And he had written it, too. I’ve seen it. I’ve read it. It was eloquent, vibrating with eloquence, but too high-strung, I think. Seventeen pages of close writing he had found time for! But this must have been before his—let us say—nerves, went wrong, and caused him to preside at certain midnight dances ending with unspeakable rites, which—as far as I reluctantly gathered from what I heard at various times—were offered up to him—do you understand?—to Mr. Kurtz himself. But it was a beautiful piece of writing. The opening paragraph, however, in the light of later information, strikes me now as ominous. He began with the argument that we whites, from the point of development we had arrived at, ‘must necessarily appear to them [savages] in the nature of supernatural beings—we approach them with the might of a deity,’ and so on, and so on. ‘By the simple exercise of our will we can exert a power for good practically unbounded,’ etc., etc. From that point he soared and took me with him. The peroration was magnificent, though difficult to remember, you know. It gave me the notion of an exotic Immensity ruled by an august Benevolence. It made me tingle with enthusiasm. This was the unbounded power of eloquence—of words—of burning noble words. There were no practical hints to interrupt the magic current of phrases, unless a kind of note at the foot of the last page, scrawled evidently much later, in an unsteady hand, may be regarded as the exposition of a method. It was very simple, and at the end of that moving appeal to every altruistic sentiment it blazed at you, luminous and terrifying, like a flash of lightning in a serene sky: ‘Exterminate all the brutes!’ The curious part was that he had apparently forgotten all about that valuable postscriptum, because, later on, when he in a sense came to himself, he repeatedly entreated me to take good care of ‘my pamphlet’ (he called it), as it was sure to have in the future a good influence upon his career. I had full information about all these things, and, besides, as it turned out, I was to have the care of his memory. I’ve done enough for it to give me the indisputable right to lay it, if I choose, for an everlasting rest in the dust-bin of progress, amongst all the sweepings and, figuratively speaking, all the dead cats of civilization. But then, you see, I can’t choose. He won’t be forgotten. Whatever he was, he was not common. He had the power to charm or frighten rudimentary souls into an aggravated witch-dance in his honour; he could also fill the small souls of the pilgrims with bitter misgivings: he had one devoted friend at least, and he had conquered one soul in the world that was neither rudimentary nor tainted with self-seeking. No; I can’t forget him, though I am not prepared to affirm the fellow was exactly worth the life we lost in getting to him. I missed my late helmsman awfully—I missed him even while his body was still lying in the pilot-house. Perhaps you will think it passing strange this regret for a savage who was no more account than a grain of sand in a black Sahara. Well, don’t you see, he had done something, he had steered; for months I had him at my back—a help—an instrument. It was a kind of partnership. He steered for me—I had to look after him, I worried about his deficiencies, and thus a subtle bond had been created, of which I only became aware when it was suddenly broken. And the intimate profundity of that look he gave me when he received his hurt remains to this day in my memory—like a claim of distant kinship affirmed in a supreme moment.

    “Poor fool! If he had only left that shutter alone. He had no restraint, no restraint—just like Kurtz—a tree swayed by the wind. As soon as I had put on a dry pair of slippers, I dragged him out, after first jerking the spear out of his side, which operation I confess I performed with my eyes shut tight. His heels leaped together over the little doorstep; his shoulders were pressed to my breast; I hugged him from behind desperately. Oh! he was heavy, heavy; heavier than any man on earth, I should imagine. Then without more ado I tipped him overboard. The current snatched him as though he had been a wisp of grass, and I saw the body roll over twice before I lost sight of it for ever. All the pilgrims and the manager were then congregated on the awning-deck about the pilot-house, chattering at each other like a flock of excited magpies, and there was a scandalized murmur at my heartless promptitude. What they wanted to keep that body hanging about for I can’t guess. Embalm it, maybe. But I had also heard another, and a very ominous, murmur on the deck below. My friends the wood-cutters were likewise scandalized, and with a better show of reason—though I admit that the reason itself was quite inadmissible. Oh, quite! I had made up my mind that if my late helmsman was to be eaten, the fishes alone should have him. He had been a very second-rate helmsman while alive, but now he was dead he might have become a first-class temptation, and possibly cause some startling trouble. Besides, I was anxious to take the wheel, the man in pink pyjamas showing himself a hopeless duffer at the business.

    “This I did directly the simple funeral was over. We were going half-speed, keeping right in the middle of the stream, and I listened to the talk about me. They had given up Kurtz, they had given up the station; Kurtz was dead, and the station had been burnt—and so on—and so on. The red-haired pilgrim was beside himself with the thought that at least this poor Kurtz had been properly avenged. ‘Say! We must have made a glorious slaughter of them in the bush. Eh? What do you think? Say?’ He positively danced, the bloodthirsty little gingery beggar. And he had nearly fainted when he saw the wounded man! I could not help saying, ‘You made a glorious lot of smoke, anyhow.’ I had seen, from the way the tops of the bushes rustled and flew, that almost all the shots had gone too high. You can’t hit anything unless you take aim and fire from the shoulder; but these chaps fired from the hip with their eyes shut. The retreat, I maintained—and I was right—was caused by the screeching of the steam whistle. Upon this they forgot Kurtz, and began to howl at me with indignant protests.

    “The manager stood by the wheel murmuring confidentially about the necessity of getting well away down the river before dark at all events, when I saw in the distance a clearing on the riverside and the outlines of some sort of building. ‘What’s this?’ I asked. He clapped his hands in wonder. ‘The station!’ he cried. I edged in at once, still going half-speed.

    “Through my glasses I saw the slope of a hill interspersed with rare trees and perfectly free from undergrowth. A long decaying building on the summit was half buried in the high grass; the large holes in the peaked roof gaped black from afar; the jungle and the woods made a background. There was no enclosure or fence of any kind; but there had been one apparently, for near the house half-a-dozen slim posts remained in a row, roughly trimmed, and with their upper ends ornamented with round carved balls. The rails, or whatever there had been between, had disappeared. Of course the forest surrounded all that. The river-bank was clear, and on the waterside I saw a white man under a hat like a cart-wheel beckoning persistently with his whole arm. Examining the edge of the forest above and below, I was almost certain I could see movements—human forms gliding here and there. I steamed past prudently, then stopped the engines and let her drift down. The man on the shore began to shout, urging us to land. ‘We have been attacked,’ screamed the manager. ‘I know—I know. It’s all right,’ yelled back the other, as cheerful as you please. ‘Come along. It’s all right. I am glad.’

    “His aspect reminded me of something I had seen—something funny I had seen somewhere. As I manoeuvred to get alongside, I was asking myself, ‘What does this fellow look like?’ Suddenly I got it. He looked like a harlequin. His clothes had been made of some stuff that was brown holland probably, but it was covered with patches all over, with bright patches, blue, red, and yellow—patches on the back, patches on the front, patches on elbows, on knees; coloured binding around his jacket, scarlet edging at the bottom of his trousers; and the sunshine made him look extremely gay and wonderfully neat withal, because you could see how beautifully all this patching had been done. A beardless, boyish face, very fair, no features to speak of, nose peeling, little blue eyes, smiles and frowns chasing each other over that open countenance like sunshine and shadow on a wind-swept plain. ‘Look out, captain!’ he cried; ‘there’s a snag lodged in here last night.’ What! Another snag? I confess I swore shamefully. I had nearly holed my cripple, to finish off that charming trip. The harlequin on the bank turned his little pug-nose up to me. ‘You English?’ he asked, all smiles. ‘Are you?’ I shouted from the wheel. The smiles vanished, and he shook his head as if sorry for my disappointment. Then he brightened up. ‘Never mind!’ he cried encouragingly. ‘Are we in time?’ I asked. ‘He is up there,’ he replied, with a toss of the head up the hill, and becoming gloomy all of a sudden. His face was like the autumn sky, overcast one moment and bright the next.

    “When the manager, escorted by the pilgrims, all of them armed to the teeth, had gone to the house this chap came on board. ‘I say, I don’t like this. These natives are in the bush,’ I said. He assured me earnestly it was all right. ‘They are simple people,’ he added; ‘well, I am glad you came. It took me all my time to keep them off.’ ‘But you said it was all right,’ I cried. ‘Oh, they meant no harm,’ he said; and as I stared he corrected himself, ‘Not exactly.’ Then vivaciously, ‘My faith, your pilot-house wants a clean-up!’ In the next breath he advised me to keep enough steam on the boiler to blow the whistle in case of any trouble. ‘One good screech will do more for you than all your rifles. They are simple people,’ he repeated. He rattled away at such a rate he quite overwhelmed me. He seemed to be trying to make up for lots of silence, and actually hinted, laughing, that such was the case. ‘Don’t you talk with Mr. Kurtz?’ I said. ‘You don’t talk with that man—you listen to him,’ he exclaimed with severe exaltation. ‘But now—’ He waved his arm, and in the twinkling of an eye was in the uttermost depths of despondency. In a moment he came up again with a jump, possessed himself of both my hands, shook them continuously, while he gabbled: ‘Brother sailor… honour… pleasure… delight… introduce myself… Russian… son of an arch-priest… Government of Tambov… What? Tobacco! English tobacco; the excellent English tobacco! Now, that’s brotherly. Smoke? Where’s a sailor that does not smoke?”

    “The pipe soothed him, and gradually I made out he had run away from school, had gone to sea in a Russian ship; ran away again; served some time in English ships; was now reconciled with the arch-priest. He made a point of that. ‘But when one is young one must see things, gather experience, ideas; enlarge the mind.’ ‘Here!’ I interrupted. ‘You can never tell! Here I met Mr. Kurtz,’ he said, youthfully solemn and reproachful. I held my tongue after that. It appears he had persuaded a Dutch trading-house on the coast to fit him out with stores and goods, and had started for the interior with a light heart and no more idea of what would happen to him than a baby. He had been wandering about that river for nearly two years alone, cut off from everybody and everything. ‘I am not so young as I look. I am twenty-five,’ he said. ‘At first old Van Shuyten would tell me to go to the devil,’ he narrated with keen enjoyment; ‘but I stuck to him, and talked and talked, till at last he got afraid I would talk the hind-leg off his favourite dog, so he gave me some cheap things and a few guns, and told me he hoped he would never see my face again. Good old Dutchman, Van Shuyten. I’ve sent him one small lot of ivory a year ago, so that he can’t call me a little thief when I get back. I hope he got it. And for the rest I don’t care. I had some wood stacked for you. That was my old house. Did you see?’

    “I gave him Towson’s book. He made as though he would kiss me, but restrained himself. ‘The only book I had left, and I thought I had lost it,’ he said, looking at it ecstatically. ‘So many accidents happen to a man going about alone, you know. Canoes get upset sometimes—and sometimes you’ve got to clear out so quick when the people get angry.’ He thumbed the pages. ‘You made notes in Russian?’ I asked. He nodded. ‘I thought they were written in cipher,’ I said. He laughed, then became serious. ‘I had lots of trouble to keep these people off,’ he said. ‘Did they want to kill you?’ I asked. ‘Oh, no!’ he cried, and checked himself. ‘Why did they attack us?’ I pursued. He hesitated, then said shamefacedly, ‘They don’t want him to go.’ ‘Don’t they?’ I said curiously. He nodded a nod full of mystery and wisdom. ‘I tell you,’ he cried, ‘this man has enlarged my mind.’ He opened his arms wide, staring at me with his little blue eyes that were perfectly round.”

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  • HEART OF DARKNESS By Joseph Conrad – Part One

    The Nellie, a cruising yawl, swung to her anchor without a flutter of the sails, and was at rest. The flood had made, the wind was nearly calm, and being bound down the river, the only thing for it was to come to and wait for the turn of the tide.

    The sea-reach of the Thames stretched before us like the beginning of an interminable waterway. In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished sprits. A haze rested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing flatness. The air was dark above Gravesend, and farther back still seemed condensed into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest, and the greatest, town on earth.

    The Director of Companies was our captain and our host. We four affectionately watched his back as he stood in the bows looking to seaward. On the whole river there was nothing that looked half so nautical. He resembled a pilot, which to a seaman is trustworthiness personified. It was difficult to realize his work was not out there in the luminous estuary, but behind him, within the brooding gloom.

    Between us there was, as I have already said somewhere, the bond of the sea. Besides holding our hearts together through long periods of separation, it had the effect of making us tolerant of each other’s yarns—and even convictions. The Lawyer—the best of old fellows—had, because of his many years and many virtues, the only cushion on deck, and was lying on the only rug. The Accountant had brought out already a box of dominoes, and was toying architecturally with the bones. Marlow sat cross-legged right aft, leaning against the mizzen-mast. He had sunken cheeks, a yellow complexion, a straight back, an ascetic aspect, and, with his arms dropped, the palms of hands outwards, resembled an idol. The director, satisfied the anchor had good hold, made his way aft and sat down amongst us. We exchanged a few words lazily. Afterwards there was silence on board the yacht. For some reason or other we did not begin that game of dominoes. We felt meditative, and fit for nothing but placid staring. The day was ending in a serenity of still and exquisite brilliance. The water shone pacifically; the sky, without a speck, was a benign immensity of unstained light; the very mist on the Essex marsh was like a gauzy and radiant fabric, hung from the wooded rises inland, and draping the low shores in diaphanous folds. Only the gloom to the west, brooding over the upper reaches, became more sombre every minute, as if angered by the approach of the sun.

    And at last, in its curved and imperceptible fall, the sun sank low, and from glowing white changed to a dull red without rays and without heat, as if about to go out suddenly, stricken to death by the touch of that gloom brooding over a crowd of men.

    Forthwith a change came over the waters, and the serenity became less brilliant but more profound. The old river in its broad reach rested unruffled at the decline of day, after ages of good service done to the race that peopled its banks, spread out in the tranquil dignity of a waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth. We looked at the venerable stream not in the vivid flush of a short day that comes and departs for ever, but in the august light of abiding memories. And indeed nothing is easier for a man who has, as the phrase goes, “followed the sea” with reverence and affection, than to evoke the great spirit of the past upon the lower reaches of the Thames. The tidal current runs to and fro in its unceasing service, crowded with memories of men and ships it had borne to the rest of home or to the battles of the sea. It had known and served all the men of whom the nation is proud, from Sir Francis Drake to Sir John Franklin, knights all, titled and untitled—the great knights-errant of the sea. It had borne all the ships whose names are like jewels flashing in the night of time, from the Golden Hind returning with her rotund flanks full of treasure, to be visited by the Queen’s Highness and thus pass out of the gigantic tale, to the Erebus and Terror, bound on other conquests—and that never returned. It had known the ships and the men. They had sailed from Deptford, from Greenwich, from Erith—the adventurers and the settlers; kings’ ships and the ships of men on ‘Change; captains, admirals, the dark “interlopers” of the Eastern trade, and the commissioned “generals” of East India fleets. Hunters for gold or pursuers of fame, they all had gone out on that stream, bearing the sword, and often the torch, messengers of the might within the land, bearers of a spark from the sacred fire. What greatness had not floated on the ebb of that river into the mystery of an unknown earth!… The dreams of men, the seed of commonwealths, the germs of empires.

    The sun set; the dusk fell on the stream, and lights began to appear along the shore. The Chapman light-house, a three-legged thing erect on a mud-flat, shone strongly. Lights of ships moved in the fairway—a great stir of lights going up and going down. And farther west on the upper reaches the place of the monstrous town was still marked ominously on the sky, a brooding gloom in sunshine, a lurid glare under the stars.

    “And this also,” said Marlow suddenly, “has been one of the dark places of the earth.”

    He was the only man of us who still “followed the sea.” The worst that could be said of him was that he did not represent his class. He was a seaman, but he was a wanderer, too, while most seamen lead, if one may so express it, a sedentary life. Their minds are of the stay-at-home order, and their home is always with them—the ship; and so is their country—the sea. One ship is very much like another, and the sea is always the same. In the immutability of their surroundings the foreign shores, the foreign faces, the changing immensity of life, glide past, veiled not by a sense of mystery but by a slightly disdainful ignorance; for there is nothing mysterious to a seaman unless it be the sea itself, which is the mistress of his existence and as inscrutable as Destiny. For the rest, after his hours of work, a casual stroll or a casual spree on shore suffices to unfold for him the secret of a whole continent, and generally he finds the secret not worth knowing. The yarns of seamen have a direct simplicity, the whole meaning of which lies within the shell of a cracked nut. But Marlow was not typical (if his propensity to spin yarns be excepted), and to him the meaning of an episode was not inside like a kernel but outside, enveloping the tale which brought it out only as a glow brings out a haze, in the likeness of one of these misty halos that sometimes are made visible by the spectral illumination of moonshine.

    His remark did not seem at all surprising. It was just like Marlow. It was accepted in silence. No one took the trouble to grunt even; and presently he said, very slow—“I was thinking of very old times, when the Romans first came here, nineteen hundred years ago—the other day …. Light came out of this river since—you say Knights? Yes; but it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker—may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday. Imagine the feelings of a commander of a fine—what d’ye call ‘em?—trireme in the Mediterranean, ordered suddenly to the north; run overland across the Gauls in a hurry; put in charge of one of these craft the legionaries—a wonderful lot of handy men they must have been, too—used to build, apparently by the hundred, in a month or two, if we may believe what we read. Imagine him here—the very end of the world, a sea the colour of lead, a sky the colour of smoke, a kind of ship about as rigid as a concertina—and going up this river with stores, or orders, or what you like. Sand-banks, marshes, forests, savages,—precious little to eat fit for a civilized man, nothing but Thames water to drink. No Falernian wine here, no going ashore. Here and there a military camp lost in a wilderness, like a needle in a bundle of hay—cold, fog, tempests, disease, exile, and death—death skulking in the air, in the water, in the bush. They must have been dying like flies here. Oh, yes—he did it. Did it very well, too, no doubt, and without thinking much about it either, except afterwards to brag of what he had gone through in his time, perhaps. They were men enough to face the darkness. And perhaps he was cheered by keeping his eye on a chance of promotion to the fleet at Ravenna by and by, if he had good friends in Rome and survived the awful climate. Or think of a decent young citizen in a toga—perhaps too much dice, you know—coming out here in the train of some prefect, or tax-gatherer, or trader even, to mend his fortunes. Land in a swamp, march through the woods, and in some inland post feel the savagery, the utter savagery, had closed round him—all that mysterious life of the wilderness that stirs in the forest, in the jungles, in the hearts of wild men. There’s no initiation either into such mysteries. He has to live in the midst of the incomprehensible, which is also detestable. And it has a fascination, too, that goes to work upon him. The fascination of the abomination—you know, imagine the growing regrets, the longing to escape, the powerless disgust, the surrender, the hate.”

    He paused.

    “Mind,” he began again, lifting one arm from the elbow, the palm of the hand outwards, so that, with his legs folded before him, he had the pose of a Buddha preaching in European clothes and without a lotus-flower—“Mind, none of us would feel exactly like this. What saves us is efficiency—the devotion to efficiency. But these chaps were not much account, really. They were no colonists; their administration was merely a squeeze, and nothing more, I suspect. They were conquerors, and for that you want only brute force—nothing to boast of, when you have it, since your strength is just an accident arising from the weakness of others. They grabbed what they could get for the sake of what was to be got. It was just robbery with violence, aggravated murder on a great scale, and men going at it blind—as is very proper for those who tackle a darkness. The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much. What redeems it is the idea only. An idea at the back of it; not a sentimental pretence but an idea; and an unselfish belief in the idea—something you can set up, and bow down before, and offer a sacrifice to….”

    He broke off. Flames glided in the river, small green flames, red flames, white flames, pursuing, overtaking, joining, crossing each other—then separating slowly or hastily. The traffic of the great city went on in the deepening night upon the sleepless river. We looked on, waiting patiently—there was nothing else to do till the end of the flood; but it was only after a long silence, when he said, in a hesitating voice, “I suppose you fellows remember I did once turn fresh-water sailor for a bit,” that we knew we were fated, before the ebb began to run, to hear about one of Marlow’s inconclusive experiences.

    “I don’t want to bother you much with what happened to me personally,” he began, showing in this remark the weakness of many tellers of tales who seem so often unaware of what their audience would like best to hear; “yet to understand the effect of it on me you ought to know how I got out there, what I saw, how I went up that river to the place where I first met the poor chap. It was the farthest point of navigation and the culminating point of my experience. It seemed somehow to throw a kind of light on everything about me—and into my thoughts. It was sombre enough, too—and pitiful—not extraordinary in any way—not very clear either. No, not very clear. And yet it seemed to throw a kind of light.

    “I had then, as you remember, just returned to London after a lot of Indian Ocean, Pacific, China Seas—a regular dose of the East—six years or so, and I was loafing about, hindering you fellows in your work and invading your homes, just as though I had got a heavenly mission to civilize you. It was very fine for a time, but after a bit I did get tired of resting. Then I began to look for a ship—I should think the hardest work on earth. But the ships wouldn’t even look at me. And I got tired of that game, too.

    “Now when I was a little chap I had a passion for maps. I would look for hours at South America, or Africa, or Australia, and lose myself in all the glories of exploration. At that time there were many blank spaces on the earth, and when I saw one that looked particularly inviting on a map (but they all look that) I would put my finger on it and say, ‘When I grow up I will go there.’ The North Pole was one of these places, I remember. Well, I haven’t been there yet, and shall not try now. The glamour’s off. Other places were scattered about the hemispheres. I have been in some of them, and… well, we won’t talk about that. But there was one yet—the biggest, the most blank, so to speak—that I had a hankering after.

    “True, by this time it was not a blank space any more. It had got filled since my boyhood with rivers and lakes and names. It had ceased to be a blank space of delightful mystery—a white patch for a boy to dream gloriously over. It had become a place of darkness. But there was in it one river especially, a mighty big river, that you could see on the map, resembling an immense snake uncoiled, with its head in the sea, its body at rest curving afar over a vast country, and its tail lost in the depths of the land. And as I looked at the map of it in a shop-window, it fascinated me as a snake would a bird—a silly little bird. Then I remembered there was a big concern, a Company for trade on that river. Dash it all! I thought to myself, they can’t trade without using some kind of craft on that lot of fresh water—steamboats! Why shouldn’t I try to get charge of one? I went on along Fleet Street, but could not shake off the idea. The snake had charmed me.

    “You understand it was a Continental concern, that Trading society; but I have a lot of relations living on the Continent, because it’s cheap and not so nasty as it looks, they say.

    “I am sorry to own I began to worry them. This was already a fresh departure for me. I was not used to get things that way, you know. I always went my own road and on my own legs where I had a mind to go. I wouldn’t have believed it of myself; but, then—you see—I felt somehow I must get there by hook or by crook. So I worried them. The men said ‘My dear fellow,’ and did nothing. Then—would you believe it?—I tried the women. I, Charlie Marlow, set the women to work—to get a job. Heavens! Well, you see, the notion drove me. I had an aunt, a dear enthusiastic soul. She wrote: ‘It will be delightful. I am ready to do anything, anything for you. It is a glorious idea. I know the wife of a very high personage in the Administration, and also a man who has lots of influence with,’ etc. She was determined to make no end of fuss to get me appointed skipper of a river steamboat, if such was my fancy.

    “I got my appointment—of course; and I got it very quick. It appears the Company had received news that one of their captains had been killed in a scuffle with the natives. This was my chance, and it made me the more anxious to go. It was only months and months afterwards, when I made the attempt to recover what was left of the body, that I heard the original quarrel arose from a misunderstanding about some hens. Yes, two black hens. Fresleven—that was the fellow’s name, a Dane—thought himself wronged somehow in the bargain, so he went ashore and started to hammer the chief of the village with a stick. Oh, it didn’t surprise me in the least to hear this, and at the same time to be told that Fresleven was the gentlest, quietest creature that ever walked on two legs. No doubt he was; but he had been a couple of years already out there engaged in the noble cause, you know, and he probably felt the need at last of asserting his self-respect in some way. Therefore he whacked the old nigger mercilessly, while a big crowd of his people watched him, thunderstruck, till some man—I was told the chief’s son—in desperation at hearing the old chap yell, made a tentative jab with a spear at the white man—and of course it went quite easy between the shoulder-blades. Then the whole population cleared into the forest, expecting all kinds of calamities to happen, while, on the other hand, the steamer Fresleven commanded left also in a bad panic, in charge of the engineer, I believe. Afterwards nobody seemed to trouble much about Fresleven’s remains, till I got out and stepped into his shoes. I couldn’t let it rest, though; but when an opportunity offered at last to meet my predecessor, the grass growing through his ribs was tall enough to hide his bones. They were all there. The supernatural being had not been touched after he fell. And the village was deserted, the huts gaped black, rotting, all askew within the fallen enclosures. A calamity had come to it, sure enough. The people had vanished. Mad terror had scattered them, men, women, and children, through the bush, and they had never returned. What became of the hens I don’t know either. I should think the cause of progress got them, anyhow. However, through this glorious affair I got my appointment, before I had fairly begun to hope for it.

    “I flew around like mad to get ready, and before forty-eight hours I was crossing the Channel to show myself to my employers, and sign the contract. In a very few hours I arrived in a city that always makes me think of a whited sepulchre. Prejudice no doubt. I had no difficulty in finding the Company’s offices. It was the biggest thing in the town, and everybody I met was full of it. They were going to run an over-sea empire, and make no end of coin by trade.

    “A narrow and deserted street in deep shadow, high houses, innumerable windows with venetian blinds, a dead silence, grass sprouting right and left, immense double doors standing ponderously ajar. I slipped through one of these cracks, went up a swept and ungarnished staircase, as arid as a desert, and opened the first door I came to. Two women, one fat and the other slim, sat on straw-bottomed chairs, knitting black wool. The slim one got up and walked straight at me—still knitting with downcast eyes—and only just as I began to think of getting out of her way, as you would for a somnambulist, stood still, and looked up. Her dress was as plain as an umbrella-cover, and she turned round without a word and preceded me into a waiting-room. I gave my name, and looked about. Deal table in the middle, plain chairs all round the walls, on one end a large shining map, marked with all the colours of a rainbow. There was a vast amount of red—good to see at any time, because one knows that some real work is done in there, a deuce of a lot of blue, a little green, smears of orange, and, on the East Coast, a purple patch, to show where the jolly pioneers of progress drink the jolly lager-beer. However, I wasn’t going into any of these. I was going into the yellow. Dead in the centre. And the river was there—fascinating—deadly—like a snake. Ough! A door opened, a white-haired secretarial head, but wearing a compassionate expression, appeared, and a skinny forefinger beckoned me into the sanctuary. Its light was dim, and a heavy writing-desk squatted in the middle. From behind that structure came out an impression of pale plumpness in a frock-coat. The great man himself. He was five feet six, I should judge, and had his grip on the handle-end of ever so many millions. He shook hands, I fancy, murmured vaguely, was satisfied with my French. Bon Voyage.

    “In about forty-five seconds I found myself again in the waiting-room with the compassionate secretary, who, full of desolation and sympathy, made me sign some document. I believe I undertook amongst other things not to disclose any trade secrets. Well, I am not going to.

    “I began to feel slightly uneasy. You know I am not used to such ceremonies, and there was something ominous in the atmosphere. It was just as though I had been let into some conspiracy—I don’t know—something not quite right; and I was glad to get out. In the outer room the two women knitted black wool feverishly. People were arriving, and the younger one was walking back and forth introducing them. The old one sat on her chair. Her flat cloth slippers were propped up on a foot-warmer, and a cat reposed on her lap. She wore a starched white affair on her head, had a wart on one cheek, and silver-rimmed spectacles hung on the tip of her nose. She glanced at me above the glasses. The swift and indifferent placidity of that look troubled me. Two youths with foolish and cheery countenances were being piloted over, and she threw at them the same quick glance of unconcerned wisdom. She seemed to know all about them and about me, too. An eerie feeling came over me. She seemed uncanny and fateful. Often far away there I thought of these two, guarding the door of Darkness, knitting black wool as for a warm pall, one introducing, introducing continuously to the unknown, the other scrutinizing the cheery and foolish faces with unconcerned old eyes. Ave! Old knitter of black wool. Morituri te salutant. Not many of those she looked at ever saw her again—not half, by a long way.

    “There was yet a visit to the doctor. ‘A simple formality,’ assured me the secretary, with an air of taking an immense part in all my sorrows. Accordingly a young chap wearing his hat over the left eyebrow, some clerk I suppose—there must have been clerks in the business, though the house was as still as a house in a city of the dead—came from somewhere up-stairs, and led me forth. He was shabby and careless, with inkstains on the sleeves of his jacket, and his cravat was large and billowy, under a chin shaped like the toe of an old boot. It was a little too early for the doctor, so I proposed a drink, and thereupon he developed a vein of joviality. As we sat over our vermouths he glorified the Company’s business, and by and by I expressed casually my surprise at him not going out there. He became very cool and collected all at once. ‘I am not such a fool as I look, quoth Plato to his disciples,’ he said sententiously, emptied his glass with great resolution, and we rose.

    “The old doctor felt my pulse, evidently thinking of something else the while. ‘Good, good for there,’ he mumbled, and then with a certain eagerness asked me whether I would let him measure my head. Rather surprised, I said Yes, when he produced a thing like calipers and got the dimensions back and front and every way, taking notes carefully. He was an unshaven little man in a threadbare coat like a gaberdine, with his feet in slippers, and I thought him a harmless fool. ‘I always ask leave, in the interests of science, to measure the crania of those going out there,’ he said. ‘And when they come back, too?’ I asked. ‘Oh, I never see them,’ he remarked; ‘and, moreover, the changes take place inside, you know.’ He smiled, as if at some quiet joke. ‘So you are going out there. Famous. Interesting, too.’ He gave me a searching glance, and made another note. ‘Ever any madness in your family?’ he asked, in a matter-of-fact tone. I felt very annoyed. ‘Is that question in the interests of science, too?’ ‘It would be,’ he said, without taking notice of my irritation, ‘interesting for science to watch the mental changes of individuals, on the spot, but…’ ‘Are you an alienist?’ I interrupted. ‘Every doctor should be—a little,’ answered that original, imperturbably. ‘I have a little theory which you messieurs who go out there must help me to prove. This is my share in the advantages my country shall reap from the possession of such a magnificent dependency. The mere wealth I leave to others. Pardon my questions, but you are the first Englishman coming under my observation…’ I hastened to assure him I was not in the least typical. ‘If I were,’ said I, ‘I wouldn’t be talking like this with you.’ ‘What you say is rather profound, and probably erroneous,’ he said, with a laugh. ‘Avoid irritation more than exposure to the sun. Adieu. How do you English say, eh? Good-bye. Ah! Good-bye. Adieu. In the tropics one must before everything keep calm.’… He lifted a warning forefinger…. ‘Du calme, du calme.’

    “One thing more remained to do—say good-bye to my excellent aunt. I found her triumphant. I had a cup of tea—the last decent cup of tea for many days—and in a room that most soothingly looked just as you would expect a lady’s drawing-room to look, we had a long quiet chat by the fireside. In the course of these confidences it became quite plain to me I had been represented to the wife of the high dignitary, and goodness knows to how many more people besides, as an exceptional and gifted creature—a piece of good fortune for the Company—a man you don’t get hold of every day. Good heavens! and I was going to take charge of a two-penny-half-penny river-steamboat with a penny whistle attached! It appeared, however, I was also one of the Workers, with a capital—you know. Something like an emissary of light, something like a lower sort of apostle. There had been a lot of such rot let loose in print and talk just about that time, and the excellent woman, living right in the rush of all that humbug, got carried off her feet. She talked about ‘weaning those ignorant millions from their horrid ways,’ till, upon my word, she made me quite uncomfortable. I ventured to hint that the Company was run for profit.

    “‘You forget, dear Charlie, that the labourer is worthy of his hire,’ she said, brightly. It’s queer how out of touch with truth women are. They live in a world of their own, and there has never been anything like it, and never can be. It is too beautiful altogether, and if they were to set it up it would go to pieces before the first sunset. Some confounded fact we men have been living contentedly with ever since the day of creation would start up and knock the whole thing over.

    “After this I got embraced, told to wear flannel, be sure to write often, and so on—and I left. In the street—I don’t know why—a queer feeling came to me that I was an imposter. Odd thing that I, who used to clear out for any part of the world at twenty-four hours’ notice, with less thought than most men give to the crossing of a street, had a moment—I won’t say of hesitation, but of startled pause, before this commonplace affair. The best way I can explain it to you is by saying that, for a second or two, I felt as though, instead of going to the centre of a continent, I were about to set off for the centre of the earth.

    “I left in a French steamer, and she called in every blamed port they have out there, for, as far as I could see, the sole purpose of landing soldiers and custom-house officers. I watched the coast. Watching a coast as it slips by the ship is like thinking about an enigma. There it is before you—smiling, frowning, inviting, grand, mean, insipid, or savage, and always mute with an air of whispering, ‘Come and find out.’ This one was almost featureless, as if still in the making, with an aspect of monotonous grimness. The edge of a colossal jungle, so dark-green as to be almost black, fringed with white surf, ran straight, like a ruled line, far, far away along a blue sea whose glitter was blurred by a creeping mist. The sun was fierce, the land seemed to glisten and drip with steam. Here and there greyish-whitish specks showed up clustered inside the white surf, with a flag flying above them perhaps. Settlements some centuries old, and still no bigger than pinheads on the untouched expanse of their background. We pounded along, stopped, landed soldiers; went on, landed custom-house clerks to levy toll in what looked like a God-forsaken wilderness, with a tin shed and a flag-pole lost in it; landed more soldiers—to take care of the custom-house clerks, presumably. Some, I heard, got drowned in the surf; but whether they did or not, nobody seemed particularly to care. They were just flung out there, and on we went. Every day the coast looked the same, as though we had not moved; but we passed various places—trading places—with names like Gran’ Bassam, Little Popo; names that seemed to belong to some sordid farce acted in front of a sinister back-cloth. The idleness of a passenger, my isolation amongst all these men with whom I had no point of contact, the oily and languid sea, the uniform sombreness of the coast, seemed to keep me away from the truth of things, within the toil of a mournful and senseless delusion. The voice of the surf heard now and then was a positive pleasure, like the speech of a brother. It was something natural, that had its reason, that had a meaning. Now and then a boat from the shore gave one a momentary contact with reality. It was paddled by black fellows. You could see from afar the white of their eyeballs glistening. They shouted, sang; their bodies streamed with perspiration; they had faces like grotesque masks—these chaps; but they had bone, muscle, a wild vitality, an intense energy of movement, that was as natural and true as the surf along their coast. They wanted no excuse for being there. They were a great comfort to look at. For a time I would feel I belonged still to a world of straightforward facts; but the feeling would not last long. Something would turn up to scare it away. Once, I remember, we came upon a man-of-war anchored off the coast. There wasn’t even a shed there, and she was shelling the bush. It appears the French had one of their wars going on thereabouts. Her ensign dropped limp like a rag; the muzzles of the long six-inch guns stuck out all over the low hull; the greasy, slimy swell swung her up lazily and let her down, swaying her thin masts. In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent. Pop, would go one of the six-inch guns; a small flame would dart and vanish, a little white smoke would disappear, a tiny projectile would give a feeble screech—and nothing happened. Nothing could happen. There was a touch of insanity in the proceeding, a sense of lugubrious drollery in the sight; and it was not dissipated by somebody on board assuring me earnestly there was a camp of natives—he called them enemies!—hidden out of sight somewhere.

    “We gave her her letters (I heard the men in that lonely ship were dying of fever at the rate of three a day) and went on. We called at some more places with farcical names, where the merry dance of death and trade goes on in a still and earthy atmosphere as of an overheated catacomb; all along the formless coast bordered by dangerous surf, as if Nature herself had tried to ward off intruders; in and out of rivers, streams of death in life, whose banks were rotting into mud, whose waters, thickened into slime, invaded the contorted mangroves, that seemed to writhe at us in the extremity of an impotent despair. Nowhere did we stop long enough to get a particularized impression, but the general sense of vague and oppressive wonder grew upon me. It was like a weary pilgrimage amongst hints for nightmares.

    “It was upward of thirty days before I saw the mouth of the big river. We anchored off the seat of the government. But my work would not begin till some two hundred miles farther on. So as soon as I could I made a start for a place thirty miles higher up.

    “I had my passage on a little sea-going steamer. Her captain was a Swede, and knowing me for a seaman, invited me on the bridge. He was a young man, lean, fair, and morose, with lanky hair and a shuffling gait. As we left the miserable little wharf, he tossed his head contemptuously at the shore. ‘Been living there?’ he asked. I said, ‘Yes.’ ‘Fine lot these government chaps—are they not?’ he went on, speaking English with great precision and considerable bitterness. ‘It is funny what some people will do for a few francs a month. I wonder what becomes of that kind when it goes upcountry?’ I said to him I expected to see that soon. ‘So-o-o!’ he exclaimed. He shuffled athwart, keeping one eye ahead vigilantly. ‘Don’t be too sure,’ he continued. ‘The other day I took up a man who hanged himself on the road. He was a Swede, too.’ ‘Hanged himself! Why, in God’s name?’ I cried. He kept on looking out watchfully. ‘Who knows? The sun too much for him, or the country perhaps.’

    “At last we opened a reach. A rocky cliff appeared, mounds of turned-up earth by the shore, houses on a hill, others with iron roofs, amongst a waste of excavations, or hanging to the declivity. A continuous noise of the rapids above hovered over this scene of inhabited devastation. A lot of people, mostly black and naked, moved about like ants. A jetty projected into the river. A blinding sunlight drowned all this at times in a sudden recrudescence of glare. ‘There’s your Company’s station,’ said the Swede, pointing to three wooden barrack-like structures on the rocky slope. ‘I will send your things up. Four boxes did you say? So. Farewell.’

    “I came upon a boiler wallowing in the grass, then found a path leading up the hill. It turned aside for the boulders, and also for an undersized railway-truck lying there on its back with its wheels in the air. One was off. The thing looked as dead as the carcass of some animal. I came upon more pieces of decaying machinery, a stack of rusty rails. To the left a clump of trees made a shady spot, where dark things seemed to stir feebly. I blinked, the path was steep. A horn tooted to the right, and I saw the black people run. A heavy and dull detonation shook the ground, a puff of smoke came out of the cliff, and that was all. No change appeared on the face of the rock. They were building a railway. The cliff was not in the way or anything; but this objectless blasting was all the work going on.

    “A slight clinking behind me made me turn my head. Six black men advanced in a file, toiling up the path. They walked erect and slow, balancing small baskets full of earth on their heads, and the clink kept time with their footsteps. Black rags were wound round their loins, and the short ends behind waggled to and fro like tails. I could see every rib, the joints of their limbs were like knots in a rope; each had an iron collar on his neck, and all were connected together with a chain whose bights swung between them, rhythmically clinking. Another report from the cliff made me think suddenly of that ship of war I had seen firing into a continent. It was the same kind of ominous voice; but these men could by no stretch of imagination be called enemies. They were called criminals, and the outraged law, like the bursting shells, had come to them, an insoluble mystery from the sea. All their meagre breasts panted together, the violently dilated nostrils quivered, the eyes stared stonily uphill. They passed me within six inches, without a glance, with that complete, deathlike indifference of unhappy savages. Behind this raw matter one of the reclaimed, the product of the new forces at work, strolled despondently, carrying a rifle by its middle. He had a uniform jacket with one button off, and seeing a white man on the path, hoisted his weapon to his shoulder with alacrity. This was simple prudence, white men being so much alike at a distance that he could not tell who I might be. He was speedily reassured, and with a large, white, rascally grin, and a glance at his charge, seemed to take me into partnership in his exalted trust. After all, I also was a part of the great cause of these high and just proceedings.

    “Instead of going up, I turned and descended to the left. My idea was to let that chain-gang get out of sight before I climbed the hill. You know I am not particularly tender; I’ve had to strike and to fend off. I’ve had to resist and to attack sometimes—that’s only one way of resisting—without counting the exact cost, according to the demands of such sort of life as I had blundered into. I’ve seen the devil of violence, and the devil of greed, and the devil of hot desire; but, by all the stars! these were strong, lusty, red-eyed devils, that swayed and drove men—men, I tell you. But as I stood on this hillside, I foresaw that in the blinding sunshine of that land I would become acquainted with a flabby, pretending, weak-eyed devil of a rapacious and pitiless folly. How insidious he could be, too, I was only to find out several months later and a thousand miles farther. For a moment I stood appalled, as though by a warning. Finally I descended the hill, obliquely, towards the trees I had seen.

    “I avoided a vast artificial hole somebody had been digging on the slope, the purpose of which I found it impossible to divine. It wasn’t a quarry or a sandpit, anyhow. It was just a hole. It might have been connected with the philanthropic desire of giving the criminals something to do. I don’t know. Then I nearly fell into a very narrow ravine, almost no more than a scar in the hillside. I discovered that a lot of imported drainage-pipes for the settlement had been tumbled in there. There wasn’t one that was not broken. It was a wanton smash-up. At last I got under the trees. My purpose was to stroll into the shade for a moment; but no sooner within than it seemed to me I had stepped into the gloomy circle of some Inferno. The rapids were near, and an uninterrupted, uniform, headlong, rushing noise filled the mournful stillness of the grove, where not a breath stirred, not a leaf moved, with a mysterious sound—as though the tearing pace of the launched earth had suddenly become audible.

    “Black shapes crouched, lay, sat between the trees leaning against the trunks, clinging to the earth, half coming out, half effaced within the dim light, in all the attitudes of pain, abandonment, and despair. Another mine on the cliff went off, followed by a slight shudder of the soil under my feet. The work was going on. The work! And this was the place where some of the helpers had withdrawn to die.

    “They were dying slowly—it was very clear. They were not enemies, they were not criminals, they were nothing earthly now—nothing but black shadows of disease and starvation, lying confusedly in the greenish gloom. Brought from all the recesses of the coast in all the legality of time contracts, lost in uncongenial surroundings, fed on unfamiliar food, they sickened, became inefficient, and were then allowed to crawl away and rest. These moribund shapes were free as air—and nearly as thin. I began to distinguish the gleam of the eyes under the trees. Then, glancing down, I saw a face near my hand. The black bones reclined at full length with one shoulder against the tree, and slowly the eyelids rose and the sunken eyes looked up at me, enormous and vacant, a kind of blind, white flicker in the depths of the orbs, which died out slowly. The man seemed young—almost a boy—but you know with them it’s hard to tell. I found nothing else to do but to offer him one of my good Swede’s ship’s biscuits I had in my pocket. The fingers closed slowly on it and held—there was no other movement and no other glance. He had tied a bit of white worsted round his neck—Why? Where did he get it? Was it a badge—an ornament—a charm—a propitiatory act? Was there any idea at all connected with it? It looked startling round his black neck, this bit of white thread from beyond the seas.

    “Near the same tree two more bundles of acute angles sat with their legs drawn up. One, with his chin propped on his knees, stared at nothing, in an intolerable and appalling manner: his brother phantom rested its forehead, as if overcome with a great weariness; and all about others were scattered in every pose of contorted collapse, as in some picture of a massacre or a pestilence. While I stood horror-struck, one of these creatures rose to his hands and knees, and went off on all-fours towards the river to drink. He lapped out of his hand, then sat up in the sunlight, crossing his shins in front of him, and after a time let his woolly head fall on his breastbone.

    “I didn’t want any more loitering in the shade, and I made haste towards the station. When near the buildings I met a white man, in such an unexpected elegance of get-up that in the first moment I took him for a sort of vision. I saw a high starched collar, white cuffs, a light alpaca jacket, snowy trousers, a clean necktie, and varnished boots. No hat. Hair parted, brushed, oiled, under a green-lined parasol held in a big white hand. He was amazing, and had a penholder behind his ear.

    “I shook hands with this miracle, and I learned he was the Company’s chief accountant, and that all the book-keeping was done at this station. He had come out for a moment, he said, ‘to get a breath of fresh air. The expression sounded wonderfully odd, with its suggestion of sedentary desk-life. I wouldn’t have mentioned the fellow to you at all, only it was from his lips that I first heard the name of the man who is so indissolubly connected with the memories of that time. Moreover, I respected the fellow. Yes; I respected his collars, his vast cuffs, his brushed hair. His appearance was certainly that of a hairdresser’s dummy; but in the great demoralization of the land he kept up his appearance. That’s backbone. His starched collars and got-up shirt-fronts were achievements of character. He had been out nearly three years; and, later, I could not help asking him how he managed to sport such linen. He had just the faintest blush, and said modestly, ‘I’ve been teaching one of the native women about the station. It was difficult. She had a distaste for the work.’ Thus this man had verily accomplished something. And he was devoted to his books, which were in apple-pie order.

    “Everything else in the station was in a muddle—heads, things, buildings. Strings of dusty niggers with splay feet arrived and departed; a stream of manufactured goods, rubbishy cottons, beads, and brass-wire sent into the depths of darkness, and in return came a precious trickle of ivory.

    “I had to wait in the station for ten days—an eternity. I lived in a hut in the yard, but to be out of the chaos I would sometimes get into the accountant’s office. It was built of horizontal planks, and so badly put together that, as he bent over his high desk, he was barred from neck to heels with narrow strips of sunlight. There was no need to open the big shutter to see. It was hot there, too; big flies buzzed fiendishly, and did not sting, but stabbed. I sat generally on the floor, while, of faultless appearance (and even slightly scented), perching on a high stool, he wrote, he wrote. Sometimes he stood up for exercise. When a truckle-bed with a sick man (some invalid agent from upcountry) was put in there, he exhibited a gentle annoyance. ‘The groans of this sick person,’ he said, ‘distract my attention. And without that it is extremely difficult to guard against clerical errors in this climate.’

    “One day he remarked, without lifting his head, ‘In the interior you will no doubt meet Mr. Kurtz.’ On my asking who Mr. Kurtz was, he said he was a first-class agent; and seeing my disappointment at this information, he added slowly, laying down his pen, ‘He is a very remarkable person.’ Further questions elicited from him that Mr. Kurtz was at present in charge of a trading-post, a very important one, in the true ivory-country, at ‘the very bottom of there. Sends in as much ivory as all the others put together…’ He began to write again. The sick man was too ill to groan. The flies buzzed in a great peace.

    “Suddenly there was a growing murmur of voices and a great tramping of feet. A caravan had come in. A violent babble of uncouth sounds burst out on the other side of the planks. All the carriers were speaking together, and in the midst of the uproar the lamentable voice of the chief agent was heard ‘giving it up’ tearfully for the twentieth time that day…. He rose slowly. ‘What a frightful row,’ he said. He crossed the room gently to look at the sick man, and returning, said to me, ‘He does not hear.’ ‘What! Dead?’ I asked, startled. ‘No, not yet,’ he answered, with great composure. Then, alluding with a toss of the head to the tumult in the station-yard, ‘When one has got to make correct entries, one comes to hate those savages—hate them to the death.’ He remained thoughtful for a moment. ‘When you see Mr. Kurtz’ he went on, ‘tell him from me that everything here’—he glanced at the deck—’ is very satisfactory. I don’t like to write to him—with those messengers of ours you never know who may get hold of your letter—at that Central Station.’ He stared at me for a moment with his mild, bulging eyes. ‘Oh, he will go far, very far,’ he began again. ‘He will be a somebody in the Administration before long. They, above—the Council in Europe, you know—mean him to be.’

    “He turned to his work. The noise outside had ceased, and presently in going out I stopped at the door. In the steady buzz of flies the homeward-bound agent was lying finished and insensible; the other, bent over his books, was making correct entries of perfectly correct transactions; and fifty feet below the doorstep I could see the still tree-tops of the grove of death.

    “Next day I left that station at last, with a caravan of sixty men, for a two-hundred-mile tramp.

    “No use telling you much about that. Paths, paths, everywhere; a stamped-in network of paths spreading over the empty land, through the long grass, through burnt grass, through thickets, down and up chilly ravines, up and down stony hills ablaze with heat; and a solitude, a solitude, nobody, not a hut. The population had cleared out a long time ago. Well, if a lot of mysterious niggers armed with all kinds of fearful weapons suddenly took to travelling on the road between Deal and Gravesend, catching the yokels right and left to carry heavy loads for them, I fancy every farm and cottage thereabouts would get empty very soon. Only here the dwellings were gone, too. Still I passed through several abandoned villages. There’s something pathetically childish in the ruins of grass walls. Day after day, with the stamp and shuffle of sixty pair of bare feet behind me, each pair under a 60-lb. load. Camp, cook, sleep, strike camp, march. Now and then a carrier dead in harness, at rest in the long grass near the path, with an empty water-gourd and his long staff lying by his side. A great silence around and above. Perhaps on some quiet night the tremor of far-off drums, sinking, swelling, a tremor vast, faint; a sound weird, appealing, suggestive, and wild—and perhaps with as profound a meaning as the sound of bells in a Christian country. Once a white man in an unbuttoned uniform, camping on the path with an armed escort of lank Zanzibaris, very hospitable and festive—not to say drunk. Was looking after the upkeep of the road, he declared. Can’t say I saw any road or any upkeep, unless the body of a middle-aged negro, with a bullet-hole in the forehead, upon which I absolutely stumbled three miles farther on, may be considered as a permanent improvement. I had a white companion, too, not a bad chap, but rather too fleshy and with the exasperating habit of fainting on the hot hillsides, miles away from the least bit of shade and water. Annoying, you know, to hold your own coat like a parasol over a man’s head while he is coming to. I couldn’t help asking him once what he meant by coming there at all. ‘To make money, of course. What do you think?’ he said, scornfully. Then he got fever, and had to be carried in a hammock slung under a pole. As he weighed sixteen stone I had no end of rows with the carriers. They jibbed, ran away, sneaked off with their loads in the night—quite a mutiny. So, one evening, I made a speech in English with gestures, not one of which was lost to the sixty pairs of eyes before me, and the next morning I started the hammock off in front all right. An hour afterwards I came upon the whole concern wrecked in a bush—man, hammock, groans, blankets, horrors. The heavy pole had skinned his poor nose. He was very anxious for me to kill somebody, but there wasn’t the shadow of a carrier near. I remembered the old doctor—‘It would be interesting for science to watch the mental changes of individuals, on the spot.’ I felt I was becoming scientifically interesting. However, all that is to no purpose. On the fifteenth day I came in sight of the big river again, and hobbled into the Central Station. It was on a back water surrounded by scrub and forest, with a pretty border of smelly mud on one side, and on the three others enclosed by a crazy fence of rushes. A neglected gap was all the gate it had, and the first glance at the place was enough to let you see the flabby devil was running that show. White men with long staves in their hands appeared languidly from amongst the buildings, strolling up to take a look at me, and then retired out of sight somewhere. One of them, a stout, excitable chap with black moustaches, informed me with great volubility and many digressions, as soon as I told him who I was, that my steamer was at the bottom of the river. I was thunderstruck. What, how, why? Oh, it was ‘all right.’ The ‘manager himself’ was there. All quite correct. ‘Everybody had behaved splendidly! splendidly!’—‘you must,’ he said in agitation, ‘go and see the general manager at once. He is waiting!’

    “I did not see the real significance of that wreck at once. I fancy I see it now, but I am not sure—not at all. Certainly the affair was too stupid—when I think of it—to be altogether natural. Still… But at the moment it presented itself simply as a confounded nuisance. The steamer was sunk. They had started two days before in a sudden hurry up the river with the manager on board, in charge of some volunteer skipper, and before they had been out three hours they tore the bottom out of her on stones, and she sank near the south bank. I asked myself what I was to do there, now my boat was lost. As a matter of fact, I had plenty to do in fishing my command out of the river. I had to set about it the very next day. That, and the repairs when I brought the pieces to the station, took some months.

    “My first interview with the manager was curious. He did not ask me to sit down after my twenty-mile walk that morning. He was commonplace in complexion, in features, in manners, and in voice. He was of middle size and of ordinary build. His eyes, of the usual blue, were perhaps remarkably cold, and he certainly could make his glance fall on one as trenchant and heavy as an axe. But even at these times the rest of his person seemed to disclaim the intention. Otherwise there was only an indefinable, faint expression of his lips, something stealthy—a smile—not a smile—I remember it, but I can’t explain. It was unconscious, this smile was, though just after he had said something it got intensified for an instant. It came at the end of his speeches like a seal applied on the words to make the meaning of the commonest phrase appear absolutely inscrutable. He was a common trader, from his youth up employed in these parts—nothing more. He was obeyed, yet he inspired neither love nor fear, nor even respect. He inspired uneasiness. That was it! Uneasiness. Not a definite mistrust—just uneasiness—nothing more. You have no idea how effective such a… a… faculty can be. He had no genius for organizing, for initiative, or for order even. That was evident in such things as the deplorable state of the station. He had no learning, and no intelligence. His position had come to him—why? Perhaps because he was never ill… He had served three terms of three years out there… Because triumphant health in the general rout of constitutions is a kind of power in itself. When he went home on leave he rioted on a large scale—pompously. Jack ashore—with a difference—in externals only. This one could gather from his casual talk. He originated nothing, he could keep the routine going—that’s all. But he was great. He was great by this little thing that it was impossible to tell what could control such a man. He never gave that secret away. Perhaps there was nothing within him. Such a suspicion made one pause—for out there there were no external checks. Once when various tropical diseases had laid low almost every ‘agent’ in the station, he was heard to say, ‘Men who come out here should have no entrails.’ He sealed the utterance with that smile of his, as though it had been a door opening into a darkness he had in his keeping. You fancied you had seen things—but the seal was on. When annoyed at meal-times by the constant quarrels of the white men about precedence, he ordered an immense round table to be made, for which a special house had to be built. This was the station’s mess-room. Where he sat was the first place—the rest were nowhere. One felt this to be his unalterable conviction. He was neither civil nor uncivil. He was quiet. He allowed his ‘boy’—an overfed young negro from the coast—to treat the white men, under his very eyes, with provoking insolence.

    “He began to speak as soon as he saw me. I had been very long on the road. He could not wait. Had to start without me. The up-river stations had to be relieved. There had been so many delays already that he did not know who was dead and who was alive, and how they got on—and so on, and so on. He paid no attention to my explanations, and, playing with a stick of sealing-wax, repeated several times that the situation was ‘very grave, very grave.’ There were rumours that a very important station was in jeopardy, and its chief, Mr. Kurtz, was ill. Hoped it was not true. Mr. Kurtz was… I felt weary and irritable. Hang Kurtz, I thought. I interrupted him by saying I had heard of Mr. Kurtz on the coast. ‘Ah! So they talk of him down there,’ he murmured to himself. Then he began again, assuring me Mr. Kurtz was the best agent he had, an exceptional man, of the greatest importance to the Company; therefore I could understand his anxiety. He was, he said, ‘very, very uneasy.’ Certainly he fidgeted on his chair a good deal, exclaimed, ‘Ah, Mr. Kurtz!’ broke the stick of sealing-wax and seemed dumfounded by the accident. Next thing he wanted to know ‘how long it would take to’… I interrupted him again. Being hungry, you know, and kept on my feet too. I was getting savage. ‘How can I tell?’ I said. ‘I haven’t even seen the wreck yet—some months, no doubt.’ All this talk seemed to me so futile. ‘Some months,’ he said. ‘Well, let us say three months before we can make a start. Yes. That ought to do the affair.’ I flung out of his hut (he lived all alone in a clay hut with a sort of verandah) muttering to myself my opinion of him. He was a chattering idiot. Afterwards I took it back when it was borne in upon me startlingly with what extreme nicety he had estimated the time requisite for the ‘affair.’

    “I went to work the next day, turning, so to speak, my back on that station. In that way only it seemed to me I could keep my hold on the redeeming facts of life. Still, one must look about sometimes; and then I saw this station, these men strolling aimlessly about in the sunshine of the yard. I asked myself sometimes what it all meant. They wandered here and there with their absurd long staves in their hands, like a lot of faithless pilgrims bewitched inside a rotten fence. The word ‘ivory’ rang in the air, was whispered, was sighed. You would think they were praying to it. A taint of imbecile rapacity blew through it all, like a whiff from some corpse. By Jove! I’ve never seen anything so unreal in my life. And outside, the silent wilderness surrounding this cleared speck on the earth struck me as something great and invincible, like evil or truth, waiting patiently for the passing away of this fantastic invasion.

    “Oh, these months! Well, never mind. Various things happened. One evening a grass shed full of calico, cotton prints, beads, and I don’t know what else, burst into a blaze so suddenly that you would have thought the earth had opened to let an avenging fire consume all that trash. I was smoking my pipe quietly by my dismantled steamer, and saw them all cutting capers in the light, with their arms lifted high, when the stout man with moustaches came tearing down to the river, a tin pail in his hand, assured me that everybody was ‘behaving splendidly, splendidly,’ dipped about a quart of water and tore back again. I noticed there was a hole in the bottom of his pail.

    “I strolled up. There was no hurry. You see the thing had gone off like a box of matches. It had been hopeless from the very first. The flame had leaped high, driven everybody back, lighted up everything—and collapsed. The shed was already a heap of embers glowing fiercely. A nigger was being beaten near by. They said he had caused the fire in some way; be that as it may, he was screeching most horribly. I saw him, later, for several days, sitting in a bit of shade looking very sick and trying to recover himself; afterwards he arose and went out—and the wilderness without a sound took him into its bosom again. As I approached the glow from the dark I found myself at the back of two men, talking. I heard the name of Kurtz pronounced, then the words, ‘take advantage of this unfortunate accident.’ One of the men was the manager. I wished him a good evening. ‘Did you ever see anything like it—eh? it is incredible,’ he said, and walked off. The other man remained. He was a first-class agent, young, gentlemanly, a bit reserved, with a forked little beard and a hooked nose. He was stand-offish with the other agents, and they on their side said he was the manager’s spy upon them. As to me, I had hardly ever spoken to him before. We got into talk, and by and by we strolled away from the hissing ruins. Then he asked me to his room, which was in the main building of the station. He struck a match, and I perceived that this young aristocrat had not only a silver-mounted dressing-case but also a whole candle all to himself. Just at that time the manager was the only man supposed to have any right to candles. Native mats covered the clay walls; a collection of spears, assegais, shields, knives was hung up in trophies. The business intrusted to this fellow was the making of bricks—so I had been informed; but there wasn’t a fragment of a brick anywhere in the station, and he had been there more than a year—waiting. It seems he could not make bricks without something, I don’t know what—straw maybe. Anyway, it could not be found there and as it was not likely to be sent from Europe, it did not appear clear to me what he was waiting for. An act of special creation perhaps. However, they were all waiting—all the sixteen or twenty pilgrims of them—for something; and upon my word it did not seem an uncongenial occupation, from the way they took it, though the only thing that ever came to them was disease—as far as I could see. They beguiled the time by back-biting and intriguing against each other in a foolish kind of way. There was an air of plotting about that station, but nothing came of it, of course. It was as unreal as everything else—as the philanthropic pretence of the whole concern, as their talk, as their government, as their show of work. The only real feeling was a desire to get appointed to a trading-post where ivory was to be had, so that they could earn percentages. They intrigued and slandered and hated each other only on that account—but as to effectually lifting a little finger—oh, no. By heavens! there is something after all in the world allowing one man to steal a horse while another must not look at a halter. Steal a horse straight out. Very well. He has done it. Perhaps he can ride. But there is a way of looking at a halter that would provoke the most charitable of saints into a kick.

    “I had no idea why he wanted to be sociable, but as we chatted in there it suddenly occurred to me the fellow was trying to get at something—in fact, pumping me. He alluded constantly to Europe, to the people I was supposed to know there—putting leading questions as to my acquaintances in the sepulchral city, and so on. His little eyes glittered like mica discs—with curiosity—though he tried to keep up a bit of superciliousness. At first I was astonished, but very soon I became awfully curious to see what he would find out from me. I couldn’t possibly imagine what I had in me to make it worth his while. It was very pretty to see how he baffled himself, for in truth my body was full only of chills, and my head had nothing in it but that wretched steamboat business. It was evident he took me for a perfectly shameless prevaricator. At last he got angry, and, to conceal a movement of furious annoyance, he yawned. I rose. Then I noticed a small sketch in oils, on a panel, representing a woman, draped and blindfolded, carrying a lighted torch. The background was sombre—almost black. The movement of the woman was stately, and the effect of the torchlight on the face was sinister.

    “It arrested me, and he stood by civilly, holding an empty half-pint champagne bottle (medical comforts) with the candle stuck in it. To my question he said Mr. Kurtz had painted this—in this very station more than a year ago—while waiting for means to go to his trading post. ‘Tell me, pray,’ said I, ‘who is this Mr. Kurtz?’

    “‘The chief of the Inner Station,’ he answered in a short tone, looking away. ‘Much obliged,’ I said, laughing. ‘And you are the brickmaker of the Central Station. Every one knows that.’ He was silent for a while. ‘He is a prodigy,’ he said at last. ‘He is an emissary of pity and science and progress, and devil knows what else. We want,’ he began to declaim suddenly, ‘for the guidance of the cause intrusted to us by Europe, so to speak, higher intelligence, wide sympathies, a singleness of purpose.’ ‘Who says that?’ I asked. ‘Lots of them,’ he replied. ‘Some even write that; and so he comes here, a special being, as you ought to know.’ ‘Why ought I to know?’ I interrupted, really surprised. He paid no attention. ‘Yes. Today he is chief of the best station, next year he will be assistant-manager, two years more and… but I dare-say you know what he will be in two years’ time. You are of the new gang—the gang of virtue. The same people who sent him specially also recommended you. Oh, don’t say no. I’ve my own eyes to trust.’ Light dawned upon me. My dear aunt’s influential acquaintances were producing an unexpected effect upon that young man. I nearly burst into a laugh. ‘Do you read the Company’s confidential correspondence?’ I asked. He hadn’t a word to say. It was great fun. ‘When Mr. Kurtz,’ I continued, severely, ‘is General Manager, you won’t have the opportunity.’

    “He blew the candle out suddenly, and we went outside. The moon had risen. Black figures strolled about listlessly, pouring water on the glow, whence proceeded a sound of hissing; steam ascended in the moonlight, the beaten nigger groaned somewhere. ‘What a row the brute makes!’ said the indefatigable man with the moustaches, appearing near us. ‘Serve him right. Transgression—punishment—bang! Pitiless, pitiless. That’s the only way. This will prevent all conflagrations for the future. I was just telling the manager…’ He noticed my companion, and became crestfallen all at once. ‘Not in bed yet,’ he said, with a kind of servile heartiness; ‘it’s so natural. Ha! Danger—agitation.’ He vanished. I went on to the riverside, and the other followed me. I heard a scathing murmur at my ear, ‘Heap of muffs—go to.’ The pilgrims could be seen in knots gesticulating, discussing. Several had still their staves in their hands. I verily believe they took these sticks to bed with them. Beyond the fence the forest stood up spectrally in the moonlight, and through that dim stir, through the faint sounds of that lamentable courtyard, the silence of the land went home to one’s very heart—its mystery, its greatness, the amazing reality of its concealed life. The hurt nigger moaned feebly somewhere near by, and then fetched a deep sigh that made me mend my pace away from there. I felt a hand introducing itself under my arm. ‘My dear sir,’ said the fellow, ‘I don’t want to be misunderstood, and especially by you, who will see Mr. Kurtz long before I can have that pleasure. I wouldn’t like him to get a false idea of my disposition….’

    “I let him run on, this papier-mache Mephistopheles, and it seemed to me that if I tried I could poke my forefinger through him, and would find nothing inside but a little loose dirt, maybe. He, don’t you see, had been planning to be assistant-manager by and by under the present man, and I could see that the coming of that Kurtz had upset them both not a little. He talked precipitately, and I did not try to stop him. I had my shoulders against the wreck of my steamer, hauled up on the slope like a carcass of some big river animal. The smell of mud, of primeval mud, by Jove! was in my nostrils, the high stillness of primeval forest was before my eyes; there were shiny patches on the black creek. The moon had spread over everything a thin layer of silver—over the rank grass, over the mud, upon the wall of matted vegetation standing higher than the wall of a temple, over the great river I could see through a sombre gap glittering, glittering, as it flowed broadly by without a murmur. All this was great, expectant, mute, while the man jabbered about himself. I wondered whether the stillness on the face of the immensity looking at us two were meant as an appeal or as a menace. What were we who had strayed in here? Could we handle that dumb thing, or would it handle us? I felt how big, how confoundedly big, was that thing that couldn’t talk, and perhaps was deaf as well. What was in there? I could see a little ivory coming out from there, and I had heard Mr. Kurtz was in there. I had heard enough about it, too—God knows! Yet somehow it didn’t bring any image with it—no more than if I had been told an angel or a fiend was in there. I believed it in the same way one of you might believe there are inhabitants in the planet Mars. I knew once a Scotch sailmaker who was certain, dead sure, there were people in Mars. If you asked him for some idea how they looked and behaved, he would get shy and mutter something about ‘walking on all-fours.’ If you as much as smiled, he would—though a man of sixty—offer to fight you. I would not have gone so far as to fight for Kurtz, but I went for him near enough to a lie. You know I hate, detest, and can’t bear a lie, not because I am straighter than the rest of us, but simply because it appalls me. There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies—which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget. It makes me miserable and sick, like biting something rotten would do. Temperament, I suppose. Well, I went near enough to it by letting the young fool there believe anything he liked to imagine as to my influence in Europe. I became in an instant as much of a pretence as the rest of the bewitched pilgrims. This simply because I had a notion it somehow would be of help to that Kurtz whom at the time I did not see—you understand. He was just a word for me. I did not see the man in the name any more than you do. Do you see him? Do you see the story? Do you see anything? It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream—making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is of the very essence of dreams….”

    He was silent for a while.

    “… No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one’s existence—that which makes its truth, its meaning—its subtle and penetrating essence. It is impossible. We live, as we dream—alone….”

    He paused again as if reflecting, then added:

    “Of course in this you fellows see more than I could then. You see me, whom you know….”

    It had become so pitch dark that we listeners could hardly see one another. For a long time already he, sitting apart, had been no more to us than a voice. There was not a word from anybody. The others might have been asleep, but I was awake. I listened, I listened on the watch for the sentence, for the word, that would give me the clue to the faint uneasiness inspired by this narrative that seemed to shape itself without human lips in the heavy night-air of the river.

    “… Yes—I let him run on,” Marlow began again, “and think what he pleased about the powers that were behind me. I did! And there was nothing behind me! There was nothing but that wretched, old, mangled steamboat I was leaning against, while he talked fluently about ‘the necessity for every man to get on.’ ‘And when one comes out here, you conceive, it is not to gaze at the moon.’ Mr. Kurtz was a ‘universal genius,’ but even a genius would find it easier to work with ‘adequate tools—intelligent men.’ He did not make bricks—why, there was a physical impossibility in the way—as I was well aware; and if he did secretarial work for the manager, it was because ‘no sensible man rejects wantonly the confidence of his superiors.’ Did I see it? I saw it. What more did I want? What I really wanted was rivets, by heaven! Rivets. To get on with the work—to stop the hole. Rivets I wanted. There were cases of them down at the coast—cases—piled up—burst—split! You kicked a loose rivet at every second step in that station-yard on the hillside. Rivets had rolled into the grove of death. You could fill your pockets with rivets for the trouble of stooping down—and there wasn’t one rivet to be found where it was wanted. We had plates that would do, but nothing to fasten them with. And every week the messenger, a long negro, letter-bag on shoulder and staff in hand, left our station for the coast. And several times a week a coast caravan came in with trade goods—ghastly glazed calico that made you shudder only to look at it, glass beads value about a penny a quart, confounded spotted cotton handkerchiefs. And no rivets. Three carriers could have brought all that was wanted to set that steamboat afloat.

    “He was becoming confidential now, but I fancy my unresponsive attitude must have exasperated him at last, for he judged it necessary to inform me he feared neither God nor devil, let alone any mere man. I said I could see that very well, but what I wanted was a certain quantity of rivets—and rivets were what really Mr. Kurtz wanted, if he had only known it. Now letters went to the coast every week…. ‘My dear sir,’ he cried, ‘I write from dictation.’ I demanded rivets. There was a way—for an intelligent man. He changed his manner; became very cold, and suddenly began to talk about a hippopotamus; wondered whether sleeping on board the steamer (I stuck to my salvage night and day) I wasn’t disturbed. There was an old hippo that had the bad habit of getting out on the bank and roaming at night over the station grounds. The pilgrims used to turn out in a body and empty every rifle they could lay hands on at him. Some even had sat up o’ nights for him. All this energy was wasted, though. ‘That animal has a charmed life,’ he said; ‘but you can say this only of brutes in this country. No man—you apprehend me?—no man here bears a charmed life.’ He stood there for a moment in the moonlight with his delicate hooked nose set a little askew, and his mica eyes glittering without a wink, then, with a curt Good-night, he strode off. I could see he was disturbed and considerably puzzled, which made me feel more hopeful than I had been for days. It was a great comfort to turn from that chap to my influential friend, the battered, twisted, ruined, tin-pot steamboat. I clambered on board. She rang under my feet like an empty Huntley & Palmer biscuit-tin kicked along a gutter; she was nothing so solid in make, and rather less pretty in shape, but I had expended enough hard work on her to make me love her. No influential friend would have served me better. She had given me a chance to come out a bit—to find out what I could do. No, I don’t like work. I had rather laze about and think of all the fine things that can be done. I don’t like work—no man does—but I like what is in the work—the chance to find yourself. Your own reality—for yourself, not for others—what no other man can ever know. They can only see the mere show, and never can tell what it really means.

    “I was not surprised to see somebody sitting aft, on the deck, with his legs dangling over the mud. You see I rather chummed with the few mechanics there were in that station, whom the other pilgrims naturally despised—on account of their imperfect manners, I suppose. This was the foreman—a boiler-maker by trade—a good worker. He was a lank, bony, yellow-faced man, with big intense eyes. His aspect was worried, and his head was as bald as the palm of my hand; but his hair in falling seemed to have stuck to his chin, and had prospered in the new locality, for his beard hung down to his waist. He was a widower with six young children (he had left them in charge of a sister of his to come out there), and the passion of his life was pigeon-flying. He was an enthusiast and a connoisseur. He would rave about pigeons. After work hours he used sometimes to come over from his hut for a talk about his children and his pigeons; at work, when he had to crawl in the mud under the bottom of the steamboat, he would tie up that beard of his in a kind of white serviette he brought for the purpose. It had loops to go over his ears. In the evening he could be seen squatted on the bank rinsing that wrapper in the creek with great care, then spreading it solemnly on a bush to dry.

    “I slapped him on the back and shouted, ‘We shall have rivets!’ He scrambled to his feet exclaiming, ‘No! Rivets!’ as though he couldn’t believe his ears. Then in a low voice, ‘You… eh?’ I don’t know why we behaved like lunatics. I put my finger to the side of my nose and nodded mysteriously. ‘Good for you!’ he cried, snapped his fingers above his head, lifting one foot. I tried a jig. We capered on the iron deck. A frightful clatter came out of that hulk, and the virgin forest on the other bank of the creek sent it back in a thundering roll upon the sleeping station. It must have made some of the pilgrims sit up in their hovels. A dark figure obscured the lighted doorway of the manager’s hut, vanished, then, a second or so after, the doorway itself vanished, too. We stopped, and the silence driven away by the stamping of our feet flowed back again from the recesses of the land. The great wall of vegetation, an exuberant and entangled mass of trunks, branches, leaves, boughs, festoons, motionless in the moonlight, was like a rioting invasion of soundless life, a rolling wave of plants, piled up, crested, ready to topple over the creek, to sweep every little man of us out of his little existence. And it moved not. A deadened burst of mighty splashes and snorts reached us from afar, as though an icthyosaurus had been taking a bath of glitter in the great river. ‘After all,’ said the boiler-maker in a reasonable tone, ‘why shouldn’t we get the rivets?’ Why not, indeed! I did not know of any reason why we shouldn’t. ‘They’ll come in three weeks,’ I said confidently.

    “But they didn’t. Instead of rivets there came an invasion, an infliction, a visitation. It came in sections during the next three weeks, each section headed by a donkey carrying a white man in new clothes and tan shoes, bowing from that elevation right and left to the impressed pilgrims. A quarrelsome band of footsore sulky niggers trod on the heels of the donkey; a lot of tents, camp-stools, tin boxes, white cases, brown bales would be shot down in the courtyard, and the air of mystery would deepen a little over the muddle of the station. Five such instalments came, with their absurd air of disorderly flight with the loot of innumerable outfit shops and provision stores, that, one would think, they were lugging, after a raid, into the wilderness for equitable division. It was an inextricable mess of things decent in themselves but that human folly made look like the spoils of thieving.

    “This devoted band called itself the Eldorado Exploring Expedition, and I believe they were sworn to secrecy. Their talk, however, was the talk of sordid buccaneers: it was reckless without hardihood, greedy without audacity, and cruel without courage; there was not an atom of foresight or of serious intention in the whole batch of them, and they did not seem aware these things are wanted for the work of the world. To tear treasure out of the bowels of the land was their desire, with no more moral purpose at the back of it than there is in burglars breaking into a safe. Who paid the expenses of the noble enterprise I don’t know; but the uncle of our manager was leader of that lot.

    “In exterior he resembled a butcher in a poor neighbourhood, and his eyes had a look of sleepy cunning. He carried his fat paunch with ostentation on his short legs, and during the time his gang infested the station spoke to no one but his nephew. You could see these two roaming about all day long with their heads close together in an everlasting confab.

    “I had given up worrying myself about the rivets. One’s capacity for that kind of folly is more limited than you would suppose. I said Hang!—and let things slide. I had plenty of time for meditation, and now and then I would give some thought to Kurtz. I wasn’t very interested in him. No. Still, I was curious to see whether this man, who had come out equipped with moral ideas of some sort, would climb to the top after all and how he would set about his work when there.”

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  • HEART OF DARKNESS By Joseph Conrad – Part Three

    “I looked at him, lost in astonishment. There he was before me, in motley, as though he had absconded from a troupe of mimes, enthusiastic, fabulous. His very existence was improbable, inexplicable, and altogether bewildering. He was an insoluble problem. It was inconceivable how he had existed, how he had succeeded in getting so far, how he had managed to remain—why he did not instantly disappear. ‘I went a little farther,’ he said, ‘then still a little farther—till I had gone so far that I don’t know how I’ll ever get back. Never mind. Plenty time. I can manage. You take Kurtz away quick—quick—I tell you.’ The glamour of youth enveloped his parti-coloured rags, his destitution, his loneliness, the essential desolation of his futile wanderings. For months—for years—his life hadn’t been worth a day’s purchase; and there he was gallantly, thoughtlessly alive, to all appearances indestructible solely by the virtue of his few years and of his unreflecting audacity. I was seduced into something like admiration—like envy. Glamour urged him on, glamour kept him unscathed. He surely wanted nothing from the wilderness but space to breathe in and to push on through. His need was to exist, and to move onwards at the greatest possible risk, and with a maximum of privation. If the absolutely pure, uncalculating, unpractical spirit of adventure had ever ruled a human being, it ruled this bepatched youth. I almost envied him the possession of this modest and clear flame. It seemed to have consumed all thought of self so completely, that even while he was talking to you, you forgot that it was he—the man before your eyes—who had gone through these things. I did not envy him his devotion to Kurtz, though. He had not meditated over it. It came to him, and he accepted it with a sort of eager fatalism. I must say that to me it appeared about the most dangerous thing in every way he had come upon so far.

    “They had come together unavoidably, like two ships becalmed near each other, and lay rubbing sides at last. I suppose Kurtz wanted an audience, because on a certain occasion, when encamped in the forest, they had talked all night, or more probably Kurtz had talked. ‘We talked of everything,’ he said, quite transported at the recollection. ‘I forgot there was such a thing as sleep. The night did not seem to last an hour. Everything! Everything!… Of love, too.’ ‘Ah, he talked to you of love!’ I said, much amused. ‘It isn’t what you think,’ he cried, almost passionately. ‘It was in general. He made me see things—things.’

    “He threw his arms up. We were on deck at the time, and the headman of my wood-cutters, lounging near by, turned upon him his heavy and glittering eyes. I looked around, and I don’t know why, but I assure you that never, never before, did this land, this river, this jungle, the very arch of this blazing sky, appear to me so hopeless and so dark, so impenetrable to human thought, so pitiless to human weakness. ‘And, ever since, you have been with him, of course?’ I said.

    “On the contrary. It appears their intercourse had been very much broken by various causes. He had, as he informed me proudly, managed to nurse Kurtz through two illnesses (he alluded to it as you would to some risky feat), but as a rule Kurtz wandered alone, far in the depths of the forest. ‘Very often coming to this station, I had to wait days and days before he would turn up,’ he said. ‘Ah, it was worth waiting for!—sometimes.’ ‘What was he doing? exploring or what?’ I asked. ‘Oh, yes, of course’; he had discovered lots of villages, a lake, too—he did not know exactly in what direction; it was dangerous to inquire too much—but mostly his expeditions had been for ivory. ‘But he had no goods to trade with by that time,’ I objected. ‘There’s a good lot of cartridges left even yet,’ he answered, looking away. ‘To speak plainly, he raided the country,’ I said. He nodded. ‘Not alone, surely!’ He muttered something about the villages round that lake. ‘Kurtz got the tribe to follow him, did he?’ I suggested. He fidgeted a little. ‘They adored him,’ he said. The tone of these words was so extraordinary that I looked at him searchingly. It was curious to see his mingled eagerness and reluctance to speak of Kurtz. The man filled his life, occupied his thoughts, swayed his emotions. ‘What can you expect?’ he burst out; ‘he came to them with thunder and lightning, you know—and they had never seen anything like it—and very terrible. He could be very terrible. You can’t judge Mr. Kurtz as you would an ordinary man. No, no, no! Now—just to give you an idea—I don’t mind telling you, he wanted to shoot me, too, one day—but I don’t judge him.’ ‘Shoot you!’ I cried ‘What for?’ ‘Well, I had a small lot of ivory the chief of that village near my house gave me. You see I used to shoot game for them. Well, he wanted it, and wouldn’t hear reason. He declared he would shoot me unless I gave him the ivory and then cleared out of the country, because he could do so, and had a fancy for it, and there was nothing on earth to prevent him killing whom he jolly well pleased. And it was true, too. I gave him the ivory. What did I care! But I didn’t clear out. No, no. I couldn’t leave him. I had to be careful, of course, till we got friendly again for a time. He had his second illness then. Afterwards I had to keep out of the way; but I didn’t mind. He was living for the most part in those villages on the lake. When he came down to the river, sometimes he would take to me, and sometimes it was better for me to be careful. This man suffered too much. He hated all this, and somehow he couldn’t get away. When I had a chance I begged him to try and leave while there was time; I offered to go back with him. And he would say yes, and then he would remain; go off on another ivory hunt; disappear for weeks; forget himself amongst these people—forget himself—you know.’ ‘Why! he’s mad,’ I said. He protested indignantly. Mr. Kurtz couldn’t be mad. If I had heard him talk, only two days ago, I wouldn’t dare hint at such a thing…. I had taken up my binoculars while we talked, and was looking at the shore, sweeping the limit of the forest at each side and at the back of the house. The consciousness of there being people in that bush, so silent, so quiet—as silent and quiet as the ruined house on the hill—made me uneasy. There was no sign on the face of nature of this amazing tale that was not so much told as suggested to me in desolate exclamations, completed by shrugs, in interrupted phrases, in hints ending in deep sighs. The woods were unmoved, like a mask—heavy, like the closed door of a prison—they looked with their air of hidden knowledge, of patient expectation, of unapproachable silence. The Russian was explaining to me that it was only lately that Mr. Kurtz had come down to the river, bringing along with him all the fighting men of that lake tribe. He had been absent for several months—getting himself adored, I suppose—and had come down unexpectedly, with the intention to all appearance of making a raid either across the river or down stream. Evidently the appetite for more ivory had got the better of the—what shall I say?—less material aspirations. However he had got much worse suddenly. ‘I heard he was lying helpless, and so I came up—took my chance,’ said the Russian. ‘Oh, he is bad, very bad.’ I directed my glass to the house. There were no signs of life, but there was the ruined roof, the long mud wall peeping above the grass, with three little square window-holes, no two of the same size; all this brought within reach of my hand, as it were. And then I made a brusque movement, and one of the remaining posts of that vanished fence leaped up in the field of my glass. You remember I told you I had been struck at the distance by certain attempts at ornamentation, rather remarkable in the ruinous aspect of the place. Now I had suddenly a nearer view, and its first result was to make me throw my head back as if before a blow. Then I went carefully from post to post with my glass, and I saw my mistake. These round knobs were not ornamental but symbolic; they were expressive and puzzling, striking and disturbing—food for thought and also for vultures if there had been any looking down from the sky; but at all events for such ants as were industrious enough to ascend the pole. They would have been even more impressive, those heads on the stakes, if their faces had not been turned to the house. Only one, the first I had made out, was facing my way. I was not so shocked as you may think. The start back I had given was really nothing but a movement of surprise. I had expected to see a knob of wood there, you know. I returned deliberately to the first I had seen—and there it was, black, dried, sunken, with closed eyelids—a head that seemed to sleep at the top of that pole, and, with the shrunken dry lips showing a narrow white line of the teeth, was smiling, too, smiling continuously at some endless and jocose dream of that eternal slumber.

    “I am not disclosing any trade secrets. In fact, the manager said afterwards that Mr. Kurtz’s methods had ruined the district. I have no opinion on that point, but I want you clearly to understand that there was nothing exactly profitable in these heads being there. They only showed that Mr. Kurtz lacked restraint in the gratification of his various lusts, that there was something wanting in him—some small matter which, when the pressing need arose, could not be found under his magnificent eloquence. Whether he knew of this deficiency himself I can’t say. I think the knowledge came to him at last—only at the very last. But the wilderness had found him out early, and had taken on him a terrible vengeance for the fantastic invasion. I think it had whispered to him things about himself which he did not know, things of which he had no conception till he took counsel with this great solitude—and the whisper had proved irresistibly fascinating. It echoed loudly within him because he was hollow at the core…. I put down the glass, and the head that had appeared near enough to be spoken to seemed at once to have leaped away from me into inaccessible distance.

    “The admirer of Mr. Kurtz was a bit crestfallen. In a hurried, indistinct voice he began to assure me he had not dared to take these—say, symbols—down. He was not afraid of the natives; they would not stir till Mr. Kurtz gave the word. His ascendancy was extraordinary. The camps of these people surrounded the place, and the chiefs came every day to see him. They would crawl…. ‘I don’t want to know anything of the ceremonies used when approaching Mr. Kurtz,’ I shouted. Curious, this feeling that came over me that such details would be more intolerable than those heads drying on the stakes under Mr. Kurtz’s windows. After all, that was only a savage sight, while I seemed at one bound to have been transported into some lightless region of subtle horrors, where pure, uncomplicated savagery was a positive relief, being something that had a right to exist—obviously—in the sunshine. The young man looked at me with surprise. I suppose it did not occur to him that Mr. Kurtz was no idol of mine. He forgot I hadn’t heard any of these splendid monologues on, what was it? on love, justice, conduct of life—or what not. If it had come to crawling before Mr. Kurtz, he crawled as much as the veriest savage of them all. I had no idea of the conditions, he said: these heads were the heads of rebels. I shocked him excessively by laughing. Rebels! What would be the next definition I was to hear? There had been enemies, criminals, workers—and these were rebels. Those rebellious heads looked very subdued to me on their sticks. ‘You don’t know how such a life tries a man like Kurtz,’ cried Kurtz’s last disciple. ‘Well, and you?’ I said. ‘I! I! I am a simple man. I have no great thoughts. I want nothing from anybody. How can you compare me to…?’ His feelings were too much for speech, and suddenly he broke down. ‘I don’t understand,’ he groaned. ‘I’ve been doing my best to keep him alive, and that’s enough. I had no hand in all this. I have no abilities. There hasn’t been a drop of medicine or a mouthful of invalid food for months here. He was shamefully abandoned. A man like this, with such ideas. Shamefully! Shamefully! I—I—haven’t slept for the last ten nights…’

    “His voice lost itself in the calm of the evening. The long shadows of the forest had slipped downhill while we talked, had gone far beyond the ruined hovel, beyond the symbolic row of stakes. All this was in the gloom, while we down there were yet in the sunshine, and the stretch of the river abreast of the clearing glittered in a still and dazzling splendour, with a murky and overshadowed bend above and below. Not a living soul was seen on the shore. The bushes did not rustle.

    “Suddenly round the corner of the house a group of men appeared, as though they had come up from the ground. They waded waist-deep in the grass, in a compact body, bearing an improvised stretcher in their midst. Instantly, in the emptiness of the landscape, a cry arose whose shrillness pierced the still air like a sharp arrow flying straight to the very heart of the land; and, as if by enchantment, streams of human beings—of naked human beings—with spears in their hands, with bows, with shields, with wild glances and savage movements, were poured into the clearing by the dark-faced and pensive forest. The bushes shook, the grass swayed for a time, and then everything stood still in attentive immobility.

    “‘Now, if he does not say the right thing to them we are all done for,’ said the Russian at my elbow. The knot of men with the stretcher had stopped, too, halfway to the steamer, as if petrified. I saw the man on the stretcher sit up, lank and with an uplifted arm, above the shoulders of the bearers. ‘Let us hope that the man who can talk so well of love in general will find some particular reason to spare us this time,’ I said. I resented bitterly the absurd danger of our situation, as if to be at the mercy of that atrocious phantom had been a dishonouring necessity. I could not hear a sound, but through my glasses I saw the thin arm extended commandingly, the lower jaw moving, the eyes of that apparition shining darkly far in its bony head that nodded with grotesque jerks. Kurtz—Kurtz—that means short in German—don’t it? Well, the name was as true as everything else in his life—and death. He looked at least seven feet long. His covering had fallen off, and his body emerged from it pitiful and appalling as from a winding-sheet. I could see the cage of his ribs all astir, the bones of his arm waving. It was as though an animated image of death carved out of old ivory had been shaking its hand with menaces at a motionless crowd of men made of dark and glittering bronze. I saw him open his mouth wide—it gave him a weirdly voracious aspect, as though he had wanted to swallow all the air, all the earth, all the men before him. A deep voice reached me faintly. He must have been shouting. He fell back suddenly. The stretcher shook as the bearers staggered forward again, and almost at the same time I noticed that the crowd of savages was vanishing without any perceptible movement of retreat, as if the forest that had ejected these beings so suddenly had drawn them in again as the breath is drawn in a long aspiration.

    “Some of the pilgrims behind the stretcher carried his arms—two shot-guns, a heavy rifle, and a light revolver-carbine—the thunderbolts of that pitiful Jupiter. The manager bent over him murmuring as he walked beside his head. They laid him down in one of the little cabins—just a room for a bed place and a camp-stool or two, you know. We had brought his belated correspondence, and a lot of torn envelopes and open letters littered his bed. His hand roamed feebly amongst these papers. I was struck by the fire of his eyes and the composed languor of his expression. It was not so much the exhaustion of disease. He did not seem in pain. This shadow looked satiated and calm, as though for the moment it had had its fill of all the emotions.

    “He rustled one of the letters, and looking straight in my face said, ‘I am glad.’ Somebody had been writing to him about me. These special recommendations were turning up again. The volume of tone he emitted without effort, almost without the trouble of moving his lips, amazed me. A voice! a voice! It was grave, profound, vibrating, while the man did not seem capable of a whisper. However, he had enough strength in him—factitious no doubt—to very nearly make an end of us, as you shall hear directly.

    “The manager appeared silently in the doorway; I stepped out at once and he drew the curtain after me. The Russian, eyed curiously by the pilgrims, was staring at the shore. I followed the direction of his glance.

    “Dark human shapes could be made out in the distance, flitting indistinctly against the gloomy border of the forest, and near the river two bronze figures, leaning on tall spears, stood in the sunlight under fantastic head-dresses of spotted skins, warlike and still in statuesque repose. And from right to left along the lighted shore moved a wild and gorgeous apparition of a woman.

    “She walked with measured steps, draped in striped and fringed cloths, treading the earth proudly, with a slight jingle and flash of barbarous ornaments. She carried her head high; her hair was done in the shape of a helmet; she had brass leggings to the knee, brass wire gauntlets to the elbow, a crimson spot on her tawny cheek, innumerable necklaces of glass beads on her neck; bizarre things, charms, gifts of witch-men, that hung about her, glittered and trembled at every step. She must have had the value of several elephant tusks upon her. She was savage and superb, wild-eyed and magnificent; there was something ominous and stately in her deliberate progress. And in the hush that had fallen suddenly upon the whole sorrowful land, the immense wilderness, the colossal body of the fecund and mysterious life seemed to look at her, pensive, as though it had been looking at the image of its own tenebrous and passionate soul.

    “She came abreast of the steamer, stood still, and faced us. Her long shadow fell to the water’s edge. Her face had a tragic and fierce aspect of wild sorrow and of dumb pain mingled with the fear of some struggling, half-shaped resolve. She stood looking at us without a stir, and like the wilderness itself, with an air of brooding over an inscrutable purpose. A whole minute passed, and then she made a step forward. There was a low jingle, a glint of yellow metal, a sway of fringed draperies, and she stopped as if her heart had failed her. The young fellow by my side growled. The pilgrims murmured at my back. She looked at us all as if her life had depended upon the unswerving steadiness of her glance. Suddenly she opened her bared arms and threw them up rigid above her head, as though in an uncontrollable desire to touch the sky, and at the same time the swift shadows darted out on the earth, swept around on the river, gathering the steamer into a shadowy embrace. A formidable silence hung over the scene.

    “She turned away slowly, walked on, following the bank, and passed into the bushes to the left. Once only her eyes gleamed back at us in the dusk of the thickets before she disappeared.

    “‘If she had offered to come aboard I really think I would have tried to shoot her,’ said the man of patches, nervously. ‘I have been risking my life every day for the last fortnight to keep her out of the house. She got in one day and kicked up a row about those miserable rags I picked up in the storeroom to mend my clothes with. I wasn’t decent. At least it must have been that, for she talked like a fury to Kurtz for an hour, pointing at me now and then. I don’t understand the dialect of this tribe. Luckily for me, I fancy Kurtz felt too ill that day to care, or there would have been mischief. I don’t understand…. No—it’s too much for me. Ah, well, it’s all over now.’

    “At this moment I heard Kurtz’s deep voice behind the curtain: ‘Save me!—save the ivory, you mean. Don’t tell me. Save me! Why, I’ve had to save you. You are interrupting my plans now. Sick! Sick! Not so sick as you would like to believe. Never mind. I’ll carry my ideas out yet—I will return. I’ll show you what can be done. You with your little peddling notions—you are interfering with me. I will return. I….’

    “The manager came out. He did me the honour to take me under the arm and lead me aside. ‘He is very low, very low,’ he said. He considered it necessary to sigh, but neglected to be consistently sorrowful. ‘We have done all we could for him—haven’t we? But there is no disguising the fact, Mr. Kurtz has done more harm than good to the Company. He did not see the time was not ripe for vigorous action. Cautiously, cautiously—that’s my principle. We must be cautious yet. The district is closed to us for a time. Deplorable! Upon the whole, the trade will suffer. I don’t deny there is a remarkable quantity of ivory—mostly fossil. We must save it, at all events—but look how precarious the position is—and why? Because the method is unsound.’ ‘Do you,’ said I, looking at the shore, ‘call it “unsound method?”’ ‘Without doubt,’ he exclaimed hotly. ‘Don’t you?’… ‘No method at all,’ I murmured after a while. ‘Exactly,’ he exulted. ‘I anticipated this. Shows a complete want of judgment. It is my duty to point it out in the proper quarter.’ ‘Oh,’ said I, ‘that fellow—what’s his name?—the brickmaker, will make a readable report for you.’ He appeared confounded for a moment. It seemed to me I had never breathed an atmosphere so vile, and I turned mentally to Kurtz for relief—positively for relief. ‘Nevertheless I think Mr. Kurtz is a remarkable man,’ I said with emphasis. He started, dropped on me a heavy glance, said very quietly, ‘he was,’ and turned his back on me. My hour of favour was over; I found myself lumped along with Kurtz as a partisan of methods for which the time was not ripe: I was unsound! Ah! but it was something to have at least a choice of nightmares.

    “I had turned to the wilderness really, not to Mr. Kurtz, who, I was ready to admit, was as good as buried. And for a moment it seemed to me as if I also were buried in a vast grave full of unspeakable secrets. I felt an intolerable weight oppressing my breast, the smell of the damp earth, the unseen presence of victorious corruption, the darkness of an impenetrable night…. The Russian tapped me on the shoulder. I heard him mumbling and stammering something about ‘brother seaman—couldn’t conceal—knowledge of matters that would affect Mr. Kurtz’s reputation.’ I waited. For him evidently Mr. Kurtz was not in his grave; I suspect that for him Mr. Kurtz was one of the immortals. ‘Well!’ said I at last, ‘speak out. As it happens, I am Mr. Kurtz’s friend—in a way.’

    “He stated with a good deal of formality that had we not been ‘of the same profession,’ he would have kept the matter to himself without regard to consequences. ‘He suspected there was an active ill-will towards him on the part of these white men that—’ ‘You are right,’ I said, remembering a certain conversation I had overheard. ‘The manager thinks you ought to be hanged.’ He showed a concern at this intelligence which amused me at first. ‘I had better get out of the way quietly,’ he said earnestly. ‘I can do no more for Kurtz now, and they would soon find some excuse. What’s to stop them? There’s a military post three hundred miles from here.’ ‘Well, upon my word,’ said I, ‘perhaps you had better go if you have any friends amongst the savages near by.’ ‘Plenty,’ he said. ‘They are simple people—and I want nothing, you know.’ He stood biting his lip, then: ‘I don’t want any harm to happen to these whites here, but of course I was thinking of Mr. Kurtz’s reputation—but you are a brother seaman and—’ ‘All right,’ said I, after a time. ‘Mr. Kurtz’s reputation is safe with me.’ I did not know how truly I spoke.

    “He informed me, lowering his voice, that it was Kurtz who had ordered the attack to be made on the steamer. ‘He hated sometimes the idea of being taken away—and then again…. But I don’t understand these matters. I am a simple man. He thought it would scare you away—that you would give it up, thinking him dead. I could not stop him. Oh, I had an awful time of it this last month.’ ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘He is all right now.’ ‘Ye-e-es,’ he muttered, not very convinced apparently. ‘Thanks,’ said I; ‘I shall keep my eyes open.’ ‘But quiet-eh?’ he urged anxiously. ‘It would be awful for his reputation if anybody here—’ I promised a complete discretion with great gravity. ‘I have a canoe and three black fellows waiting not very far. I am off. Could you give me a few Martini-Henry cartridges?’ I could, and did, with proper secrecy. He helped himself, with a wink at me, to a handful of my tobacco. ‘Between sailors—you know—good English tobacco.’ At the door of the pilot-house he turned round—‘I say, haven’t you a pair of shoes you could spare?’ He raised one leg. ‘Look.’ The soles were tied with knotted strings sandalwise under his bare feet. I rooted out an old pair, at which he looked with admiration before tucking it under his left arm. One of his pockets (bright red) was bulging with cartridges, from the other (dark blue) peeped ‘Towson’s Inquiry,’ etc., etc. He seemed to think himself excellently well equipped for a renewed encounter with the wilderness. ‘Ah! I’ll never, never meet such a man again. You ought to have heard him recite poetry—his own, too, it was, he told me. Poetry!’ He rolled his eyes at the recollection of these delights. ‘Oh, he enlarged my mind!’ ‘Good-bye,’ said I. He shook hands and vanished in the night. Sometimes I ask myself whether I had ever really seen him—whether it was possible to meet such a phenomenon!…

    “When I woke up shortly after midnight his warning came to my mind with its hint of danger that seemed, in the starred darkness, real enough to make me get up for the purpose of having a look round. On the hill a big fire burned, illuminating fitfully a crooked corner of the station-house. One of the agents with a picket of a few of our blacks, armed for the purpose, was keeping guard over the ivory; but deep within the forest, red gleams that wavered, that seemed to sink and rise from the ground amongst confused columnar shapes of intense blackness, showed the exact position of the camp where Mr. Kurtz’s adorers were keeping their uneasy vigil. The monotonous beating of a big drum filled the air with muffled shocks and a lingering vibration. A steady droning sound of many men chanting each to himself some weird incantation came out from the black, flat wall of the woods as the humming of bees comes out of a hive, and had a strange narcotic effect upon my half-awake senses. I believe I dozed off leaning over the rail, till an abrupt burst of yells, an overwhelming outbreak of a pent-up and mysterious frenzy, woke me up in a bewildered wonder. It was cut short all at once, and the low droning went on with an effect of audible and soothing silence. I glanced casually into the little cabin. A light was burning within, but Mr. Kurtz was not there.

    “I think I would have raised an outcry if I had believed my eyes. But I didn’t believe them at first—the thing seemed so impossible. The fact is I was completely unnerved by a sheer blank fright, pure abstract terror, unconnected with any distinct shape of physical danger. What made this emotion so overpowering was—how shall I define it?—the moral shock I received, as if something altogether monstrous, intolerable to thought and odious to the soul, had been thrust upon me unexpectedly. This lasted of course the merest fraction of a second, and then the usual sense of commonplace, deadly danger, the possibility of a sudden onslaught and massacre, or something of the kind, which I saw impending, was positively welcome and composing. It pacified me, in fact, so much that I did not raise an alarm.

    “There was an agent buttoned up inside an ulster and sleeping on a chair on deck within three feet of me. The yells had not awakened him; he snored very slightly; I left him to his slumbers and leaped ashore. I did not betray Mr. Kurtz—it was ordered I should never betray him—it was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice. I was anxious to deal with this shadow by myself alone—and to this day I don’t know why I was so jealous of sharing with any one the peculiar blackness of that experience.

    “As soon as I got on the bank I saw a trail—a broad trail through the grass. I remember the exultation with which I said to myself, ‘He can’t walk—he is crawling on all-fours—I’ve got him.’ The grass was wet with dew. I strode rapidly with clenched fists. I fancy I had some vague notion of falling upon him and giving him a drubbing. I don’t know. I had some imbecile thoughts. The knitting old woman with the cat obtruded herself upon my memory as a most improper person to be sitting at the other end of such an affair. I saw a row of pilgrims squirting lead in the air out of Winchesters held to the hip. I thought I would never get back to the steamer, and imagined myself living alone and unarmed in the woods to an advanced age. Such silly things—you know. And I remember I confounded the beat of the drum with the beating of my heart, and was pleased at its calm regularity.

    “I kept to the track though—then stopped to listen. The night was very clear; a dark blue space, sparkling with dew and starlight, in which black things stood very still. I thought I could see a kind of motion ahead of me. I was strangely cocksure of everything that night. I actually left the track and ran in a wide semicircle (I verily believe chuckling to myself) so as to get in front of that stir, of that motion I had seen—if indeed I had seen anything. I was circumventing Kurtz as though it had been a boyish game.

    “I came upon him, and, if he had not heard me coming, I would have fallen over him, too, but he got up in time. He rose, unsteady, long, pale, indistinct, like a vapour exhaled by the earth, and swayed slightly, misty and silent before me; while at my back the fires loomed between the trees, and the murmur of many voices issued from the forest. I had cut him off cleverly; but when actually confronting him I seemed to come to my senses, I saw the danger in its right proportion. It was by no means over yet. Suppose he began to shout? Though he could hardly stand, there was still plenty of vigour in his voice. ‘Go away—hide yourself,’ he said, in that profound tone. It was very awful. I glanced back. We were within thirty yards from the nearest fire. A black figure stood up, strode on long black legs, waving long black arms, across the glow. It had horns—antelope horns, I think—on its head. Some sorcerer, some witch-man, no doubt: it looked fiendlike enough. ‘Do you know what you are doing?’ I whispered. ‘Perfectly,’ he answered, raising his voice for that single word: it sounded to me far off and yet loud, like a hail through a speaking-trumpet. ‘If he makes a row we are lost,’ I thought to myself. This clearly was not a case for fisticuffs, even apart from the very natural aversion I had to beat that Shadow—this wandering and tormented thing. ‘You will be lost,’ I said—‘utterly lost.’ One gets sometimes such a flash of inspiration, you know. I did say the right thing, though indeed he could not have been more irretrievably lost than he was at this very moment, when the foundations of our intimacy were being laid—to endure—to endure—even to the end—even beyond.

    “‘I had immense plans,’ he muttered irresolutely. ‘Yes,’ said I; ‘but if you try to shout I’ll smash your head with—’ There was not a stick or a stone near. ‘I will throttle you for good,’ I corrected myself. ‘I was on the threshold of great things,’ he pleaded, in a voice of longing, with a wistfulness of tone that made my blood run cold. ‘And now for this stupid scoundrel—’ ‘Your success in Europe is assured in any case,’ I affirmed steadily. I did not want to have the throttling of him, you understand—and indeed it would have been very little use for any practical purpose. I tried to break the spell—the heavy, mute spell of the wilderness—that seemed to draw him to its pitiless breast by the awakening of forgotten and brutal instincts, by the memory of gratified and monstrous passions. This alone, I was convinced, had driven him out to the edge of the forest, to the bush, towards the gleam of fires, the throb of drums, the drone of weird incantations; this alone had beguiled his unlawful soul beyond the bounds of permitted aspirations. And, don’t you see, the terror of the position was not in being knocked on the head—though I had a very lively sense of that danger, too—but in this, that I had to deal with a being to whom I could not appeal in the name of anything high or low. I had, even like the niggers, to invoke him—himself—his own exalted and incredible degradation. There was nothing either above or below him, and I knew it. He had kicked himself loose of the earth. Confound the man! he had kicked the very earth to pieces. He was alone, and I before him did not know whether I stood on the ground or floated in the air. I’ve been telling you what we said—repeating the phrases we pronounced—but what’s the good? They were common everyday words—the familiar, vague sounds exchanged on every waking day of life. But what of that? They had behind them, to my mind, the terrific suggestiveness of words heard in dreams, of phrases spoken in nightmares. Soul! If anybody ever struggled with a soul, I am the man. And I wasn’t arguing with a lunatic either. Believe me or not, his intelligence was perfectly clear—concentrated, it is true, upon himself with horrible intensity, yet clear; and therein was my only chance—barring, of course, the killing him there and then, which wasn’t so good, on account of unavoidable noise. But his soul was mad. Being alone in the wilderness, it had looked within itself, and, by heavens! I tell you, it had gone mad. I had—for my sins, I suppose—to go through the ordeal of looking into it myself. No eloquence could have been so withering to one’s belief in mankind as his final burst of sincerity. He struggled with himself, too. I saw it—I heard it. I saw the inconceivable mystery of a soul that knew no restraint, no faith, and no fear, yet struggling blindly with itself. I kept my head pretty well; but when I had him at last stretched on the couch, I wiped my forehead, while my legs shook under me as though I had carried half a ton on my back down that hill. And yet I had only supported him, his bony arm clasped round my neck—and he was not much heavier than a child.

    “When next day we left at noon, the crowd, of whose presence behind the curtain of trees I had been acutely conscious all the time, flowed out of the woods again, filled the clearing, covered the slope with a mass of naked, breathing, quivering, bronze bodies. I steamed up a bit, then swung down stream, and two thousand eyes followed the evolutions of the splashing, thumping, fierce river-demon beating the water with its terrible tail and breathing black smoke into the air. In front of the first rank, along the river, three men, plastered with bright red earth from head to foot, strutted to and fro restlessly. When we came abreast again, they faced the river, stamped their feet, nodded their horned heads, swayed their scarlet bodies; they shook towards the fierce river-demon a bunch of black feathers, a mangy skin with a pendent tail—something that looked a dried gourd; they shouted periodically together strings of amazing words that resembled no sounds of human language; and the deep murmurs of the crowd, interrupted suddenly, were like the responses of some satanic litany.

    “We had carried Kurtz into the pilot-house: there was more air there. Lying on the couch, he stared through the open shutter. There was an eddy in the mass of human bodies, and the woman with helmeted head and tawny cheeks rushed out to the very brink of the stream. She put out her hands, shouted something, and all that wild mob took up the shout in a roaring chorus of articulated, rapid, breathless utterance.

    “‘Do you understand this?’ I asked.

    “He kept on looking out past me with fiery, longing eyes, with a mingled expression of wistfulness and hate. He made no answer, but I saw a smile, a smile of indefinable meaning, appear on his colourless lips that a moment after twitched convulsively. ‘Do I not?’ he said slowly, gasping, as if the words had been torn out of him by a supernatural power.

    “I pulled the string of the whistle, and I did this because I saw the pilgrims on deck getting out their rifles with an air of anticipating a jolly lark. At the sudden screech there was a movement of abject terror through that wedged mass of bodies. ‘Don’t! don’t you frighten them away,’ cried some one on deck disconsolately. I pulled the string time after time. They broke and ran, they leaped, they crouched, they swerved, they dodged the flying terror of the sound. The three red chaps had fallen flat, face down on the shore, as though they had been shot dead. Only the barbarous and superb woman did not so much as flinch, and stretched tragically her bare arms after us over the sombre and glittering river.

    “And then that imbecile crowd down on the deck started their little fun, and I could see nothing more for smoke.

    “The brown current ran swiftly out of the heart of darkness, bearing us down towards the sea with twice the speed of our upward progress; and Kurtz’s life was running swiftly, too, ebbing, ebbing out of his heart into the sea of inexorable time. The manager was very placid, he had no vital anxieties now, he took us both in with a comprehensive and satisfied glance: the ‘affair’ had come off as well as could be wished. I saw the time approaching when I would be left alone of the party of ‘unsound method.’ The pilgrims looked upon me with disfavour. I was, so to speak, numbered with the dead. It is strange how I accepted this unforeseen partnership, this choice of nightmares forced upon me in the tenebrous land invaded by these mean and greedy phantoms.

    “Kurtz discoursed. A voice! a voice! It rang deep to the very last. It survived his strength to hide in the magnificent folds of eloquence the barren darkness of his heart. Oh, he struggled! he struggled! The wastes of his weary brain were haunted by shadowy images now—images of wealth and fame revolving obsequiously round his unextinguishable gift of noble and lofty expression. My Intended, my station, my career, my ideas—these were the subjects for the occasional utterances of elevated sentiments. The shade of the original Kurtz frequented the bedside of the hollow sham, whose fate it was to be buried presently in the mould of primeval earth. But both the diabolic love and the unearthly hate of the mysteries it had penetrated fought for the possession of that soul satiated with primitive emotions, avid of lying fame, of sham distinction, of all the appearances of success and power.

    “Sometimes he was contemptibly childish. He desired to have kings meet him at railway-stations on his return from some ghastly Nowhere, where he intended to accomplish great things. ‘You show them you have in you something that is really profitable, and then there will be no limits to the recognition of your ability,’ he would say. ‘Of course you must take care of the motives—right motives—always.’ The long reaches that were like one and the same reach, monotonous bends that were exactly alike, slipped past the steamer with their multitude of secular trees looking patiently after this grimy fragment of another world, the forerunner of change, of conquest, of trade, of massacres, of blessings. I looked ahead—piloting. ‘Close the shutter,’ said Kurtz suddenly one day; ‘I can’t bear to look at this.’ I did so. There was a silence. ‘Oh, but I will wring your heart yet!’ he cried at the invisible wilderness.

    “We broke down—as I had expected—and had to lie up for repairs at the head of an island. This delay was the first thing that shook Kurtz’s confidence. One morning he gave me a packet of papers and a photograph—the lot tied together with a shoe-string. ‘Keep this for me,’ he said. ‘This noxious fool’ (meaning the manager) ‘is capable of prying into my boxes when I am not looking.’ In the afternoon I saw him. He was lying on his back with closed eyes, and I withdrew quietly, but I heard him mutter, ‘Live rightly, die, die…’ I listened. There was nothing more. Was he rehearsing some speech in his sleep, or was it a fragment of a phrase from some newspaper article? He had been writing for the papers and meant to do so again, ‘for the furthering of my ideas. It’s a duty.’

    “His was an impenetrable darkness. I looked at him as you peer down at a man who is lying at the bottom of a precipice where the sun never shines. But I had not much time to give him, because I was helping the engine-driver to take to pieces the leaky cylinders, to straighten a bent connecting-rod, and in other such matters. I lived in an infernal mess of rust, filings, nuts, bolts, spanners, hammers, ratchet-drills—things I abominate, because I don’t get on with them. I tended the little forge we fortunately had aboard; I toiled wearily in a wretched scrap-heap—unless I had the shakes too bad to stand.

    “One evening coming in with a candle I was startled to hear him say a little tremulously, ‘I am lying here in the dark waiting for death.’ The light was within a foot of his eyes. I forced myself to murmur, ‘Oh, nonsense!’ and stood over him as if transfixed.

    “Anything approaching the change that came over his features I have never seen before, and hope never to see again. Oh, I wasn’t touched. I was fascinated. It was as though a veil had been rent. I saw on that ivory face the expression of sombre pride, of ruthless power, of craven terror—of an intense and hopeless despair. Did he live his life again in every detail of desire, temptation, and surrender during that supreme moment of complete knowledge? He cried in a whisper at some image, at some vision—he cried out twice, a cry that was no more than a breath:

    “‘The horror! The horror!’

    “I blew the candle out and left the cabin. The pilgrims were dining in the mess-room, and I took my place opposite the manager, who lifted his eyes to give me a questioning glance, which I successfully ignored. He leaned back, serene, with that peculiar smile of his sealing the unexpressed depths of his meanness. A continuous shower of small flies streamed upon the lamp, upon the cloth, upon our hands and faces. Suddenly the manager’s boy put his insolent black head in the doorway, and said in a tone of scathing contempt:

    “‘Mistah Kurtz—he dead.’

    “All the pilgrims rushed out to see. I remained, and went on with my dinner. I believe I was considered brutally callous. However, I did not eat much. There was a lamp in there—light, don’t you know—and outside it was so beastly, beastly dark. I went no more near the remarkable man who had pronounced a judgment upon the adventures of his soul on this earth. The voice was gone. What else had been there? But I am of course aware that next day the pilgrims buried something in a muddy hole.

    “And then they very nearly buried me.

    “However, as you see, I did not go to join Kurtz there and then. I did not. I remained to dream the nightmare out to the end, and to show my loyalty to Kurtz once more. Destiny. My destiny! Droll thing life is—that mysterious arrangement of merciless logic for a futile purpose. The most you can hope from it is some knowledge of yourself—that comes too late—a crop of unextinguishable regrets. I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great fear of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary. If such is the form of ultimate wisdom, then life is a greater riddle than some of us think it to be. I was within a hair’s breadth of the last opportunity for pronouncement, and I found with humiliation that probably I would have nothing to say. This is the reason why I affirm that Kurtz was a remarkable man. He had something to say. He said it. Since I had peeped over the edge myself, I understand better the meaning of his stare, that could not see the flame of the candle, but was wide enough to embrace the whole universe, piercing enough to penetrate all the hearts that beat in the darkness. He had summed up—he had judged. ‘The horror!’ He was a remarkable man. After all, this was the expression of some sort of belief; it had candour, it had conviction, it had a vibrating note of revolt in its whisper, it had the appalling face of a glimpsed truth—the strange commingling of desire and hate. And it is not my own extremity I remember best—a vision of greyness without form filled with physical pain, and a careless contempt for the evanescence of all things—even of this pain itself. No! It is his extremity that I seem to have lived through. True, he had made that last stride, he had stepped over the edge, while I had been permitted to draw back my hesitating foot. And perhaps in this is the whole difference; perhaps all the wisdom, and all truth, and all sincerity, are just compressed into that inappreciable moment of time in which we step over the threshold of the invisible. Perhaps! I like to think my summing-up would not have been a word of careless contempt. Better his cry—much better. It was an affirmation, a moral victory paid for by innumerable defeats, by abominable terrors, by abominable satisfactions. But it was a victory! That is why I have remained loyal to Kurtz to the last, and even beyond, when a long time after I heard once more, not his own voice, but the echo of his magnificent eloquence thrown to me from a soul as translucently pure as a cliff of crystal.

    “No, they did not bury me, though there is a period of time which I remember mistily, with a shuddering wonder, like a passage through some inconceivable world that had no hope in it and no desire. I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew. Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flauntings of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend. I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces so full of stupid importance. I daresay I was not very well at that time. I tottered about the streets—there were various affairs to settle—grinning bitterly at perfectly respectable persons. I admit my behaviour was inexcusable, but then my temperature was seldom normal in these days. My dear aunt’s endeavours to ‘nurse up my strength’ seemed altogether beside the mark. It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing. I kept the bundle of papers given me by Kurtz, not knowing exactly what to do with it. His mother had died lately, watched over, as I was told, by his Intended. A clean-shaved man, with an official manner and wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, called on me one day and made inquiries, at first circuitous, afterwards suavely pressing, about what he was pleased to denominate certain ‘documents.’ I was not surprised, because I had had two rows with the manager on the subject out there. I had refused to give up the smallest scrap out of that package, and I took the same attitude with the spectacled man. He became darkly menacing at last, and with much heat argued that the Company had the right to every bit of information about its ‘territories.’ And said he, ‘Mr. Kurtz’s knowledge of unexplored regions must have been necessarily extensive and peculiar—owing to his great abilities and to the deplorable circumstances in which he had been placed: therefore—’ I assured him Mr. Kurtz’s knowledge, however extensive, did not bear upon the problems of commerce or administration. He invoked then the name of science. ‘It would be an incalculable loss if,’ etc., etc. I offered him the report on the ‘Suppression of Savage Customs,’ with the postscriptum torn off. He took it up eagerly, but ended by sniffing at it with an air of contempt. ‘This is not what we had a right to expect,’ he remarked. ‘Expect nothing else,’ I said. ‘There are only private letters.’ He withdrew upon some threat of legal proceedings, and I saw him no more; but another fellow, calling himself Kurtz’s cousin, appeared two days later, and was anxious to hear all the details about his dear relative’s last moments. Incidentally he gave me to understand that Kurtz had been essentially a great musician. ‘There was the making of an immense success,’ said the man, who was an organist, I believe, with lank grey hair flowing over a greasy coat-collar. I had no reason to doubt his statement; and to this day I am unable to say what was Kurtz’s profession, whether he ever had any—which was the greatest of his talents. I had taken him for a painter who wrote for the papers, or else for a journalist who could paint—but even the cousin (who took snuff during the interview) could not tell me what he had been—exactly. He was a universal genius—on that point I agreed with the old chap, who thereupon blew his nose noisily into a large cotton handkerchief and withdrew in senile agitation, bearing off some family letters and memoranda without importance. Ultimately a journalist anxious to know something of the fate of his ‘dear colleague’ turned up. This visitor informed me Kurtz’s proper sphere ought to have been politics ‘on the popular side.’ He had furry straight eyebrows, bristly hair cropped short, an eyeglass on a broad ribbon, and, becoming expansive, confessed his opinion that Kurtz really couldn’t write a bit—‘but heavens! how that man could talk. He electrified large meetings. He had faith—don’t you see?—he had the faith. He could get himself to believe anything—anything. He would have been a splendid leader of an extreme party.’ ‘What party?’ I asked. ‘Any party,’ answered the other. ‘He was an—an—extremist.’ Did I not think so? I assented. Did I know, he asked, with a sudden flash of curiosity, ‘what it was that had induced him to go out there?’ ‘Yes,’ said I, and forthwith handed him the famous Report for publication, if he thought fit. He glanced through it hurriedly, mumbling all the time, judged ‘it would do,’ and took himself off with this plunder.

    “Thus I was left at last with a slim packet of letters and the girl’s portrait. She struck me as beautiful—I mean she had a beautiful expression. I know that the sunlight can be made to lie, too, yet one felt that no manipulation of light and pose could have conveyed the delicate shade of truthfulness upon those features. She seemed ready to listen without mental reservation, without suspicion, without a thought for herself. I concluded I would go and give her back her portrait and those letters myself. Curiosity? Yes; and also some other feeling perhaps. All that had been Kurtz’s had passed out of my hands: his soul, his body, his station, his plans, his ivory, his career. There remained only his memory and his Intended—and I wanted to give that up, too, to the past, in a way—to surrender personally all that remained of him with me to that oblivion which is the last word of our common fate. I don’t defend myself. I had no clear perception of what it was I really wanted. Perhaps it was an impulse of unconscious loyalty, or the fulfilment of one of those ironic necessities that lurk in the facts of human existence. I don’t know. I can’t tell. But I went.

    “I thought his memory was like the other memories of the dead that accumulate in every man’s life—a vague impress on the brain of shadows that had fallen on it in their swift and final passage; but before the high and ponderous door, between the tall houses of a street as still and decorous as a well-kept alley in a cemetery, I had a vision of him on the stretcher, opening his mouth voraciously, as if to devour all the earth with all its mankind. He lived then before me; he lived as much as he had ever lived—a shadow insatiable of splendid appearances, of frightful realities; a shadow darker than the shadow of the night, and draped nobly in the folds of a gorgeous eloquence. The vision seemed to enter the house with me—the stretcher, the phantom-bearers, the wild crowd of obedient worshippers, the gloom of the forests, the glitter of the reach between the murky bends, the beat of the drum, regular and muffled like the beating of a heart—the heart of a conquering darkness. It was a moment of triumph for the wilderness, an invading and vengeful rush which, it seemed to me, I would have to keep back alone for the salvation of another soul. And the memory of what I had heard him say afar there, with the horned shapes stirring at my back, in the glow of fires, within the patient woods, those broken phrases came back to me, were heard again in their ominous and terrifying simplicity. I remembered his abject pleading, his abject threats, the colossal scale of his vile desires, the meanness, the torment, the tempestuous anguish of his soul. And later on I seemed to see his collected languid manner, when he said one day, ‘This lot of ivory now is really mine. The Company did not pay for it. I collected it myself at a very great personal risk. I am afraid they will try to claim it as theirs though. H’m. It is a difficult case. What do you think I ought to do—resist? Eh? I want no more than justice.’… He wanted no more than justice—no more than justice. I rang the bell before a mahogany door on the first floor, and while I waited he seemed to stare at me out of the glassy panel—stare with that wide and immense stare embracing, condemning, loathing all the universe. I seemed to hear the whispered cry, “The horror! The horror!”

    “The dusk was falling. I had to wait in a lofty drawing-room with three long windows from floor to ceiling that were like three luminous and bedraped columns. The bent gilt legs and backs of the furniture shone in indistinct curves. The tall marble fireplace had a cold and monumental whiteness. A grand piano stood massively in a corner; with dark gleams on the flat surfaces like a sombre and polished sarcophagus. A high door opened—closed. I rose.

    “She came forward, all in black, with a pale head, floating towards me in the dusk. She was in mourning. It was more than a year since his death, more than a year since the news came; she seemed as though she would remember and mourn forever. She took both my hands in hers and murmured, ‘I had heard you were coming.’ I noticed she was not very young—I mean not girlish. She had a mature capacity for fidelity, for belief, for suffering. The room seemed to have grown darker, as if all the sad light of the cloudy evening had taken refuge on her forehead. This fair hair, this pale visage, this pure brow, seemed surrounded by an ashy halo from which the dark eyes looked out at me. Their glance was guileless, profound, confident, and trustful. She carried her sorrowful head as though she were proud of that sorrow, as though she would say, ‘I—I alone know how to mourn for him as he deserves.’ But while we were still shaking hands, such a look of awful desolation came upon her face that I perceived she was one of those creatures that are not the playthings of Time. For her he had died only yesterday. And, by Jove! the impression was so powerful that for me, too, he seemed to have died only yesterday—nay, this very minute. I saw her and him in the same instant of time—his death and her sorrow—I saw her sorrow in the very moment of his death. Do you understand? I saw them together—I heard them together. She had said, with a deep catch of the breath, ‘I have survived’ while my strained ears seemed to hear distinctly, mingled with her tone of despairing regret, the summing up whisper of his eternal condemnation. I asked myself what I was doing there, with a sensation of panic in my heart as though I had blundered into a place of cruel and absurd mysteries not fit for a human being to behold. She motioned me to a chair. We sat down. I laid the packet gently on the little table, and she put her hand over it…. ‘You knew him well,’ she murmured, after a moment of mourning silence.

    “‘Intimacy grows quickly out there,’ I said. ‘I knew him as well as it is possible for one man to know another.’

    “‘And you admired him,’ she said. ‘It was impossible to know him and not to admire him. Was it?’

    “‘He was a remarkable man,’ I said, unsteadily. Then before the appealing fixity of her gaze, that seemed to watch for more words on my lips, I went on, ‘It was impossible not to—’

    “‘Love him,’ she finished eagerly, silencing me into an appalled dumbness. ‘How true! how true! But when you think that no one knew him so well as I! I had all his noble confidence. I knew him best.’

    “‘You knew him best,’ I repeated. And perhaps she did. But with every word spoken the room was growing darker, and only her forehead, smooth and white, remained illumined by the inextinguishable light of belief and love.

    “‘You were his friend,’ she went on. ‘His friend,’ she repeated, a little louder. ‘You must have been, if he had given you this, and sent you to me. I feel I can speak to you—and oh! I must speak. I want you—you who have heard his last words—to know I have been worthy of him…. It is not pride…. Yes! I am proud to know I understood him better than any one on earth—he told me so himself. And since his mother died I have had no one—no one—to—to—’

    “I listened. The darkness deepened. I was not even sure whether he had given me the right bundle. I rather suspect he wanted me to take care of another batch of his papers which, after his death, I saw the manager examining under the lamp. And the girl talked, easing her pain in the certitude of my sympathy; she talked as thirsty men drink. I had heard that her engagement with Kurtz had been disapproved by her people. He wasn’t rich enough or something. And indeed I don’t know whether he had not been a pauper all his life. He had given me some reason to infer that it was his impatience of comparative poverty that drove him out there.

    “‘… Who was not his friend who had heard him speak once?’ she was saying. ‘He drew men towards him by what was best in them.’ She looked at me with intensity. ‘It is the gift of the great,’ she went on, and the sound of her low voice seemed to have the accompaniment of all the other sounds, full of mystery, desolation, and sorrow, I had ever heard—the ripple of the river, the soughing of the trees swayed by the wind, the murmurs of the crowds, the faint ring of incomprehensible words cried from afar, the whisper of a voice speaking from beyond the threshold of an eternal darkness. ‘But you have heard him! You know!’ she cried.

    “‘Yes, I know,’ I said with something like despair in my heart, but bowing my head before the faith that was in her, before that great and saving illusion that shone with an unearthly glow in the darkness, in the triumphant darkness from which I could not have defended her—from which I could not even defend myself.

    “‘What a loss to me—to us!’—she corrected herself with beautiful generosity; then added in a murmur, ‘To the world.’ By the last gleams of twilight I could see the glitter of her eyes, full of tears—of tears that would not fall.

    “‘I have been very happy—very fortunate—very proud,’ she went on. ‘Too fortunate. Too happy for a little while. And now I am unhappy for—for life.’

    “She stood up; her fair hair seemed to catch all the remaining light in a glimmer of gold. I rose, too.

    “‘And of all this,’ she went on mournfully, ‘of all his promise, and of all his greatness, of his generous mind, of his noble heart, nothing remains—nothing but a memory. You and I—’

    “‘We shall always remember him,’ I said hastily.

    “‘No!’ she cried. ‘It is impossible that all this should be lost—that such a life should be sacrificed to leave nothing—but sorrow. You know what vast plans he had. I knew of them, too—I could not perhaps understand—but others knew of them. Something must remain. His words, at least, have not died.’

    “‘His words will remain,’ I said.

    “‘And his example,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Men looked up to him—his goodness shone in every act. His example—’

    “‘True,’ I said; ‘his example, too. Yes, his example. I forgot that.’

    “‘But I do not. I cannot—I cannot believe—not yet. I cannot believe that I shall never see him again, that nobody will see him again, never, never, never.’

    “She put out her arms as if after a retreating figure, stretching them back and with clasped pale hands across the fading and narrow sheen of the window. Never see him! I saw him clearly enough then. I shall see this eloquent phantom as long as I live, and I shall see her, too, a tragic and familiar Shade, resembling in this gesture another one, tragic also, and bedecked with powerless charms, stretching bare brown arms over the glitter of the infernal stream, the stream of darkness. She said suddenly very low, ‘He died as he lived.’

    “‘His end,’ said I, with dull anger stirring in me, ‘was in every way worthy of his life.’

    “‘And I was not with him,’ she murmured. My anger subsided before a feeling of infinite pity.

    “‘Everything that could be done—’ I mumbled.

    “‘Ah, but I believed in him more than any one on earth—more than his own mother, more than—himself. He needed me! Me! I would have treasured every sigh, every word, every sign, every glance.’

    “I felt like a chill grip on my chest. ‘Don’t,’ I said, in a muffled voice.

    “‘Forgive me. I—I have mourned so long in silence—in silence…. You were with him—to the last? I think of his loneliness. Nobody near to understand him as I would have understood. Perhaps no one to hear….’

    “‘To the very end,’ I said, shakily. ‘I heard his very last words….’ I stopped in a fright.

    “‘Repeat them,’ she murmured in a heart-broken tone. ‘I want—I want—something—something—to—to live with.’

    “I was on the point of crying at her, ‘Don’t you hear them?’ The dusk was repeating them in a persistent whisper all around us, in a whisper that seemed to swell menacingly like the first whisper of a rising wind. ‘The horror! The horror!’

    “‘His last word—to live with,’ she insisted. ‘Don’t you understand I loved him—I loved him—I loved him!’

    “I pulled myself together and spoke slowly.

    “‘The last word he pronounced was—your name.’

    “I heard a light sigh and then my heart stood still, stopped dead short by an exulting and terrible cry, by the cry of inconceivable triumph and of unspeakable pain. ‘I knew it—I was sure!’… She knew. She was sure. I heard her weeping; she had hidden her face in her hands. It seemed to me that the house would collapse before I could escape, that the heavens would fall upon my head. But nothing happened. The heavens do not fall for such a trifle. Would they have fallen, I wonder, if I had rendered Kurtz that justice which was his due? Hadn’t he said he wanted only justice? But I couldn’t. I could not tell her. It would have been too dark—too dark altogether….”

    Marlow ceased, and sat apart, indistinct and silent, in the pose of a meditating Buddha. Nobody moved for a time. “We have lost the first of the ebb,” said the Director suddenly. I raised my head. The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky—seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness.

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  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapters 51-61

    PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapters 51-61

    Chapter 51

    Their sister’s wedding ceremony day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her in all probability greater than she felt for herself. The carriage was despatched to fulfill them at ——, they usually have been to return in it by dinner-time. Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets, and Jane extra particularly, who gave Lydia the sentiments which might have attended herself, had she been the offender, and was wretched within the considered what her sister should endure.

    They got here. The household have been assembled within the breakfast room to obtain them. Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet because the carriage drove as much as the door; her husband regarded impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed, anxious, uneasy.

    Lydia’s voice was heard within the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and he or she bumped into the room. Her mom stepped forwards, embraced her, and welcomed her with rapture; gave her hand, with an affectionate smile, to Wickham, who adopted his woman; and wished them each pleasure with an alacrity which shewed little question of their happiness.

    Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not fairly so cordial. His countenance relatively gained in austerity; and he scarcely opened his lips. The straightforward assurance of the younger couple, certainly, was sufficient to impress him. Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was Lydia nonetheless; untamed, unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned from sister to sister, demanding their congratulations; and when at size all of them sat down, regarded eagerly around the room, took discover of some little alteration in it, and noticed, with amusing, that it was an ideal whereas since she had been there.

    Wickham was by no means extra distressed than herself, however his manners have been all the time so pleasing, that had his character and his marriage been precisely what they ought, his smiles and his straightforward deal with, whereas he claimed their relationship, would have delighted all of them. Elizabeth had not earlier than believed him fairly equal to such assurance; however she sat down, resolving inside herself to attract no limits in future to the impudence of an impudent man. She blushed, and Jane blushed; however the cheeks of the 2 who prompted their confusion suffered no variation of color.

    There was no need of discourse. The bride and her mom might neither of them speak quick sufficient; and Wickham, who occurred to take a seat close to Elizabeth, started inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood, with humoured ease which she felt very unable to equal in her replies. They appeared every of them to have the happiest reminiscences on the planet. Nothing of the previous was recollected with ache; and Lydia led voluntarily to topics which her sisters wouldn’t have alluded to for the world.

    “Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away; it seems but a fortnight I declare; and yet there have been things enough happened in the time. Good gracious! when I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! though I thought it would be very good fun if I was.”

    Her father lifted up his eyes. Jane was distressed. Elizabeth regarded expressively at Lydia; however she, who by no means heard nor noticed something of which she selected to be insensible, gaily continued, “Oh! mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day? I was afraid they might not; and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle, so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side-glass next to him, and took off my glove, and let my hand just rest upon the window frame, so that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like anything.”

    Elizabeth might bear it now not. She obtained up, and ran out of the room; and returned no extra, until she heard them passing via the corridor to the eating parlour. She then joined them quickly sufficient to see Lydia, with anxious parade, stroll as much as her mom’s proper hand, and listen to her say to her eldest sister, “Ah! Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a married woman.”

    It was to not be supposed that point would give Lydia that embarrassment from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good spirits elevated. She longed to see Mrs. Phillips, the Lucases, and all their different neighbours, and to listen to herself referred to as “Mrs. Wickham” by every of them; and in the meanwhile, she went after dinner to point out her ring, and boast of being married, to Mrs. Hill and the 2 housemaids.

    “Well, mamma,” mentioned she, once they have been all returned to the breakfast room, “and what do you think of my husband? Is not he a charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is the place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go.”

    “Very true; and if I had my will, we should. But my dear Lydia, I don’t at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”

    “Oh, lord! yes;—there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things. You and papa, and my sisters, must come down and see us. We shall be at Newcastle all the winter, and I dare say there will be some balls, and I will take care to get good partners for them all.”

    “I should like it beyond anything!” mentioned her mom.

    “And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the winter is over.”

    “I thank you for my share of the favour,” mentioned Elizabeth; “but I do not particularly like your way of getting husbands.”

    Their guests have been to not stay above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham had acquired his fee earlier than he left London, and he was to hitch his regiment on the finish of a fortnight.

    No one however Mrs. Bennet regretted that their keep could be so quick; and he or she made the more often than not by visiting about together with her daughter, and having very frequent events at dwelling. These events have been acceptable to all; to keep away from a household circle was much more fascinating to comparable to did assume, than comparable to didn’t.

    Wickham’s affection for Lydia was simply what Elizabeth had anticipated to search out it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely wanted her current remark to be glad, from the rationale of issues, that their elopement had been introduced on by the power of her love, relatively than by his; and he or she would have puzzled why, with out violently caring for her, he selected to elope together with her in any respect, had she not felt sure that his flight was rendered vital by misery of circumstances; and if that have been the case, he was not the younger man to withstand a possibility of getting a companion.

    Lydia was exceedingly keen on him. He was her expensive Wickham each time; nobody was to be put in competitors with him. He did each factor greatest on the planet; and he or she was certain he would kill extra birds on the primary of September, than any physique else within the nation.

    One morning, quickly after their arrival, as she was sitting together with her two elder sisters, she mentioned to Elizabeth:

    “Lizzy, I never gave you an account of my wedding, I believe. You were not by, when I told mamma and the others all about it. Are not you curious to hear how it was managed?”

    “No really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little said on the subject.”

    “La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would be married in his blue coat.”

    “Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual; I thought it would never be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand, that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything. To be sure London was rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open. Well, and so just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away; and if we were beyond the hour, we could not be married all day. But, luckily, he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set out. However, I recollected afterwards that if he had been prevented going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as well.”

    “Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.

    “Oh, yes!—he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But gracious me! I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!”

    “If it was to be secret,” mentioned Jane, “say not another word on the subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.”

    “Oh! certainly,” mentioned Elizabeth, although burning with curiosity; “we will ask you no questions.”

    “Thank you,” mentioned Lydia, “for if you did, I should certainly tell you all, and then Wickham would be angry.”

    On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was compelled to place it out of her energy, by operating away.

    But to reside in ignorance on such a degree was unimaginable; or a minimum of it was unimaginable to not strive for data. Mr. Darcy had been at her sister’s wedding ceremony. It was precisely a scene, and precisely amongst folks, the place he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. Conjectures as to the which means of it, speedy and wild, hurried into her mind; however she was glad with none. Those that greatest happy her, as putting his conduct within the noblest gentle, appeared most unbelievable. She couldn’t bear such suspense; and rapidly seizing a sheet of paper, wrote a brief letter to her aunt, to request an evidence of what Lydia had dropt, if it have been suitable with the secrecy which had been supposed.

    “You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us, and (comparatively speaking) a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it—unless it is, for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.”

    “Not that I shall, though,” she added to herself, as she completed the letter; “and my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out.”

    Jane’s delicate sense of honour wouldn’t enable her to talk to Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad of it;—until it appeared whether or not her inquiries would obtain any satisfaction, she had relatively be with out a confidante.

    Chapter 52

    Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving a solution to her letter as quickly as she probably might. She was no sooner in possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, the place she was least more likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of many benches and ready to be completely happy; for the size of the letter satisfied her that it didn’t comprise a denial.

    “Gracechurch road, Sept. 6.

    “MY DEAR NIECE,

    “I’ve simply acquired your letter, and shall commit this complete morning to answering it, as I foresee {that a} little writing won’t comprise what I’ve to inform you. I have to confess myself shocked by your utility; I didn’t anticipate it from you. Don’t assume me indignant, nevertheless, for I solely imply to let you understand that I had not imagined such inquiries to be vital on youraspect. If you don’t select to know me, forgive my impertinence. Your uncle is as a lot shocked as I’m—and nothing however the perception of your being a celebration involved would have allowed him to behave as he has finished. But if you’re actually harmless and ignorant, I should be extra specific.

    “On the very day of my coming dwelling from Longbourn, your uncle had a most sudden customer. Mr. Darcy referred to as, and was shut up with him a number of hours. It was throughout earlier than I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked as yours appears to have been. He got here to inform Mr. Gardiner that he had came upon the place your sister and Mr. Wickham have been, and that he had seen and talked with them each; Wickham repeatedly, Lydia as soon as. From what I can gather, he left Derbyshire solely someday after ourselves, and got here to city with the decision of attempting to find them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so nicely referred to as to make it unimaginable for any younger lady of character to like or open up to him. He generously imputed the entire to his mistaken satisfaction, and confessed that he had earlier than thought it beneath him to put his non-public actions open to the world. His character was to talk for itself. He referred to as it, due to this fact, his obligation to step ahead, and endeavour to treatment an evil which had been introduced on by himself. If he had one othermotive, I’m certain it could by no means shame him. He had been some days on the town, earlier than he was in a position to uncover them; however he had one thing to direct his search, which was greater than we had; and the consciousness of this was another excuse for his resolving to observe us.

    “There is a girl, it appears, a Mrs. Younge, who was a while in the past governess to Miss Darcy, and was dismissed from her cost on some reason for disapprobation, although he didn’t say what. She then took a big home in Edward-street, and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he went to her for intelligence of him as quickly as he obtained to city. But it was two or three days earlier than he might get from her what he needed. She wouldn’t betray her belief, I suppose, with out bribery and corruption, for she actually did know the place her buddy was to be discovered. Wickham certainly had gone to her on their first arrival in London, and had she been in a position to obtain them into her home, they’d have taken up their abode together with her. At size, nevertheless, our form buddy procured the wished-for course. They have been in —— road. He noticed Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. His first object together with her, he acknowledged, had been to steer her to stop her current disgraceful state of affairs, and return to her associates as quickly as they might be prevailed on to obtain her, providing his help, so far as it could go. But he discovered Lydia completely resolved on remaining the place she was. She cared for none of her associates; she needed no assist of his; she wouldn’t hear of leaving Wickham. She was certain they need to be married a while or different, and it didn’t a lot signify when. Since such have been her emotions, it solely remained, he thought, to safe and expedite a wedding, which, in his very first dialog with Wickham, he simply learnt had by no means been his design. He confessed himself obliged to depart the regiment, on account of some money owed of honour, which have been very urgent; and scrupled to not lay all of the ill-consequences of Lydia’s flight on her personal folly alone. He meant to resign his fee instantly; and as to his future state of affairs, he might conjecture little or no about it. He should go someplace, however he didn’t know the place, and he knew he ought to don’t have anything to reside on.

    “Mr. Darcy requested him why he had not married your sister without delay. Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very wealthy, he would have been in a position to do one thing for him, and his state of affairs should have been benefited by marriage. But he discovered, in reply to this query, that Wickham nonetheless cherished the hope of extra effectually making his fortune by marriage in another nation. Under such circumstances, nevertheless, he was not more likely to be proof towards the temptation of rapid reduction.

    “They met a number of occasions, for there was a lot to be mentioned. Wickham in fact needed greater than he might get; however at size was decreased to be affordable.

    “Every factor being settled between them, Mr. Darcy’s subsequent step was to make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first referred to as in Gracechurch road the night earlier than I got here dwelling. But Mr. Gardiner couldn’t be seen, and Mr. Darcy discovered, on additional inquiry, that your father was nonetheless with him, however would stop city the following morning. He didn’t decide your father to be an individual whom he might so correctly seek the advice of as your uncle, and due to this fact readily postponed seeing him until after the departure of the previous. He didn’t go away his identify, and until the following day it was solely recognized {that a} gentleman had referred to as on enterprise.

    “On Saturday he got here once more. Your father was gone, your uncle at dwelling, and, as I mentioned earlier than, that they had quite a lot of speak collectively.

    “They met once more on Sunday, after which I noticed him too. It was not all settled earlier than Monday: as quickly because it was, the specific was despatched off to Longbourn. But our customer was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the actual defect of his character, in any case. He has been accused of many faults at completely different occasions, however this is the true one. Nothing was to be finished that he didn’t do himself; although I’m certain (and I don’t converse it to be thanked, due to this fact say nothing about it), your uncle would most readily have settled the entire.

    “They battled it collectively for a very long time, which was greater than both the gentleman or woman involved in it deserved. But finally your uncle was compelled to yield, and as a substitute of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was compelled to place up with solely having the possible credit score of it, which went sorely towards the grain; and I actually consider your letter this morning gave him nice pleasure, as a result of it required an evidence that might rob him of his borrowed feathers, and provides the reward the place it was due. But, Lizzy, this should go no farther than your self, or Jane at most.

    “You know fairly nicely, I suppose, what has been finished for the younger folks. His money owed are to be paid, amounting, I consider, to significantly greater than a thousand kilos, one other thousand along with her personal settled upon her, and his fee bought. The cause why all this was to be finished by him alone, was comparable to I’ve given above. It was owing to him, to his reserve and need of correct consideration, that Wickham’s character had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been acquired and seen as he was. Perhaps there was some fact in this; although I doubt whether or not his reserve, or anyone’s reserve, will be answerable for the occasion. But despite all this effective speaking, my expensive Lizzy, you could relaxation completely assured that your uncle would by no means have yielded, if we had not given him credit score for one other curiosity within the affair.

    “When all this was resolved on, he returned once more to his associates, who have been nonetheless staying at Pemberley; but it surely was agreed that he needs to be in London as soon as extra when the marriage occurred, and all cash issues have been then to obtain the final end.

    “I consider I’ve now instructed you each factor. It is a relation which you inform me is to offer you nice shock; I hope a minimum of it won’t afford you any displeasure. Lydia got here to us; and Wickham had fixed admission to the home. He was precisely what he had been, after I knew him in Hertfordshire; however I’d not inform you how little I used to be glad together with her behaviour whereas she staid with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter final Wednesday, that her conduct on coming dwelling was precisely of a bit with it, and due to this fact what I now inform you may give you no contemporary ache. I talked to her repeatedly in probably the most severe method, representing to her all of the wickedness of what she had finished, and all of the unhappiness she had introduced on her household. If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I’m certain she didn’t pay attention. I used to be generally fairly provoked, however then I recollected my expensive Elizabeth and Jane, and for his or her sakes had persistence together with her.

    “Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and as Lydia knowledgeable you, attended the marriage. He dined with us the following day, and was to depart city once more on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very indignant with me, my expensive Lizzy, if I take this chance of claiming (what I used to be by no means daring sufficient to say earlier than) how a lot I like him. His behaviour to us has, in each respect, been as pleasing as once we have been in Derbyshire. His understanding and opinions all please me; he needs nothing however a bit extra liveliness, and that, if he marry prudently, his spouse could train him. I believed him very sly;—he rarely talked about your identify. But slyness appears the style.

    “Pray forgive me if I’ve been very presuming, or a minimum of don’t punish me as far as to exclude me from P. I shall by no means be fairly completely happy until I’ve been all around the park. A low phaeton, with a pleasant little pair of ponies, could be the very factor.

    “But I have to write no extra. The kids have been wanting me this half hour.

    “Yours, very sincerely,

    “M. GARDINER.”

    The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth right into a flutter of spirits, wherein it was troublesome to find out whether or not pleasure or ache bore the best share. The imprecise and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced of what Mr. Darcy might need been doing to ahead her sister’s match, which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness too nice to be possible, and on the similar time dreaded to be simply, from the ache of obligation, have been proved past their biggest extent to be true! He had adopted them purposely to city, he had taken on himself all the difficulty and mortification attendant on such a analysis; wherein supplication had been essential to a girl whom he should abominate and despise, and the place he was decreased to fulfill, incessantly meet, cause with, persuade, and eventually bribe, the person whom he all the time most wished to keep away from, and whose very identify it was punishment to him to pronounce. He had finished all this for a lady whom he might neither regard nor esteem. Her coronary heart did whisper that he had finished it for her. But it was a hope shortly checked by different concerns, and he or she quickly felt that even her self-importance was inadequate, when required to rely on his affection for her—for a girl who had already refused him—as in a position to overcome a sentiment so pure as abhorrence towards relationship with Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every type of satisfaction should revolt from the connection. He had, to make certain, finished a lot. She was ashamed to assume how a lot. But he had given a cause for his interference, which requested no extraordinary stretch of perception. It was affordable that he ought to really feel he had been fallacious; he had liberality, and he had the technique of exercising it; and although she wouldn’t place herself as his principal inducement, she might, maybe, consider that remaining partiality for her may help his endeavours in a trigger the place her peace of thoughts should be materially involved. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they have been below obligations to an individual who might by no means obtain a return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, each factor, to him. Oh! how heartily did she grieve over each ungracious sensation she had ever inspired, each saucy speech she had ever directed in the direction of him. For herself she was humbled; however she was pleased with him. Proud that in a reason for compassion and honour, he had been in a position to get the higher of himself. She learn over her aunt’s commendation of him repeatedly. It was hardly sufficient; but it surely happy her. She was even wise of some pleasure, although combined with remorse, on discovering how steadfastly each she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.

    She was roused from her seat, and her reflections, by some one’s method; and earlier than she might strike into one other path, she was overtaken by Wickham.

    “I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” mentioned he, as he joined her.

    “You certainly do,” she replied with a smile; “but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”

    “I should be sorry indeed, if it were. We were always good friends; and now we are better.”

    “True. Are the others coming out?”

    “I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to Meryton. And so, my dear sister, I find, from our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen Pemberley.”

    She replied within the affirmative.

    “I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much for me, or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, I suppose? Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”

    “Yes, she did.”

    “And what did she say?”

    “That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had—not turned out well. At such a distance as that, you know, things are strangely misrepresented.”

    “Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had silenced him; however he quickly afterwards mentioned:

    “I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”

    “Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” mentioned Elizabeth. “It must be something particular, to take him there at this time of year.”

    “Undoubtedly. Did you see him while you were at Lambton? I thought I understood from the Gardiners that you had.”

    “Yes; he introduced us to his sister.”

    “And do you like her?”

    “Very much.”

    “I have heard, indeed, that she is uncommonly improved within this year or two. When I last saw her, she was not very promising. I am very glad you liked her. I hope she will turn out well.”

    “I dare say she will; she has got over the most trying age.”

    “Did you go by the village of Kympton?”

    “I do not recollect that we did.”

    “I mention it, because it is the living which I ought to have had. A most delightful place!—Excellent Parsonage House! It would have suited me in every respect.”

    “How should you have liked making sermons?”

    “Exceedingly well. I should have considered it as part of my duty, and the exertion would soon have been nothing. One ought not to repine;—but, to be sure, it would have been such a thing for me! The quiet, the retirement of such a life would have answered all my ideas of happiness! But it was not to be. Did you ever hear Darcy mention the circumstance, when you were in Kent?”

    “I have heard from authority, which I thought as good, that it was left you conditionally only, and at the will of the present patron.”

    “You have. Yes, there was something in that; I told you so from the first, you may remember.”

    “I did hear, too, that there was a time, when sermon-making was not so palatable to you as it seems to be at present; that you actually declared your resolution of never taking orders, and that the business had been compromised accordingly.”

    “You did! and it was not wholly without foundation. You may remember what I told you on that point, when first we talked of it.”

    They have been now virtually on the door of the home, for she had walked quick to do away with him; and unwilling, for her sister’s sake, to impress him, she solely mentioned in reply, with a good-humoured smile:

    “Come, Mr. Wickham, we are brother and sister, you know. Do not let us quarrel about the past. In future, I hope we shall be always of one mind.”

    She held out her hand; he kissed it with affectionate gallantry, although he hardly knew the right way to look, they usually entered the home.

    Chapter 53

    Mr. Wickham was so completely glad with this dialog that he by no means once more distressed himself, or provoked his expensive sister Elizabeth, by introducing the topic of it; and he or she was happy to search out that she had mentioned sufficient to maintain him quiet.

    The day of his and Lydia’s departure quickly got here, and Mrs. Bennet was compelled to undergo a separation, which, as her husband certainly not entered into her scheme of their all going to Newcastle, was more likely to proceed a minimum of a twelvemonth.

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

    “Oh, lord! I don’t know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.”

    “Write to me very often, my dear.”

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

    Mr. Wickham’s adieus have been far more affectionate than his spouse’s. He smiled, regarded good-looking, and mentioned many fairly issues.

    “He is as fine a fellow,” mentioned Mr. Bennet, as quickly as they have been out of the home, “as ever I saw. He simpers, and smirks, and makes love to us all. I am prodigiously proud of him. I defy even Sir William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.”

    The lack of her daughter made Mrs. Bennet very uninteresting for a number of days.

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

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

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

    But the spiritless situation which this occasion threw her into was shortly relieved, and her thoughts opened once more to the agitation of hope, by an article of stories which then started to be in circulation. The housekeeper at Netherfield had acquired orders to arrange for the arrival of her grasp, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for a number of weeks. Mrs. Bennet was fairly within the fidgets. She checked out Jane, and smiled and shook her head by turns.

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

    “You may depend on it,” replied the opposite, “for Mrs. Nicholls 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 certain true. He comes down on Thursday at the latest, very likely on Wednesday. She 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.”

    Miss Bennet had not been in a position to hear of his coming with out altering color. It was many months since she had talked about his identify to Elizabeth; however now, as quickly as they have been alone collectively, she mentioned:

    “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. I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that I should be looked at. I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with pleasure or pain. I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see the less of him. Not that I am afraid of myself, but I dread other people’s remarks.”

    Elizabeth didn’t know what to make of it. Had she not seen him in Derbyshire, she might need supposed him able to coming there with no different view than what was acknowledged; however she nonetheless thought him a fan of Jane, and he or she wavered as to the larger likelihood of his coming there with his buddy’s permission, or being daring sufficient to come back with out it.

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

    In spite of what her sister declared, and actually believed to be her emotions within the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth might simply understand that her spirits have been affected by it. They have been extra disturbed, extra unequal, than she had usually seen them.

    The topic which had been so warmly canvassed between their dad and mom, a couple of twelvemonth in the past, was now introduced ahead once more.

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

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

    His spouse represented to him how completely vital such an consideration could be from all of the neighbouring gents, on his returning to Netherfield.

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

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

    Consoled by this decision, she was the higher in a position to bear her husband’s incivility; although it was very mortifying to know that her neighbours may all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence of it, earlier than they did. As the day of his arrival drew close to,—

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

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

    Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, via the help of servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that the interval of hysteria and fretfulness on her aspect is perhaps so long as it might. She counted the times that should intervene earlier than their invitation might be despatched; hopeless of seeing him earlier than. But on the third morning after his arrival in Hertfordshire, she noticed him, from her dressing-room window, enter the paddock and trip in the direction of the home.

    Her daughters have been eagerly referred to as to partake of her pleasure. Jane resolutely saved her place on the desk; however Elizabeth, to fulfill her mom, went to the window—she regarded,—she noticed Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down once more by her sister.

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

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

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

    “Good gracious! Mr. Darcy!—and so it does, I vow. Well, 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.”

    Jane checked out Elizabeth with shock and concern. She knew however little of their assembly in Derbyshire, and due to this fact felt for the awkwardness which should attend her sister, in seeing him virtually for the primary time after receiving his explanatory letter. Both sisters have been uncomfortable sufficient. Each felt for the opposite, and naturally for themselves; and their mom talked on, of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her decision to be civil to him solely as Mr. Bingley’s buddy, with out being heard by both of them. But Elizabeth had sources of uneasiness which couldn’t be suspected by Jane, to whom she had by no means but had braveness to shew Mrs. Gardiner’s letter, or to narrate her personal change of sentiment in the direction of him. To Jane, he might be solely a person whose proposals she had refused, and whose advantage she had undervalued; however to her personal extra intensive data, he was the individual to whom the entire household have been indebted for the primary of advantages, and whom she regarded herself with an curiosity, if not fairly so tender, a minimum of as affordable and simply as what Jane felt for Bingley. Her astonishment at his coming—at his coming to Netherfield, to Longbourn, and voluntarily searching for her once more, was virtually equal to what she had recognized on first witnessing his altered behaviour in Derbyshire.

    The color which had been pushed from her face, returned for half a minute with an extra glow, and a smile of enjoyment added lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that area of time that his affection and desires should nonetheless be unshaken. But she wouldn’t be safe.

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

    She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and with out daring to elevate up her eyes, until anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her sister because the servant was approaching the door. Jane regarded a bit paler than regular, however extra sedate than Elizabeth had anticipated. On the gents’s showing, her color elevated; but she acquired them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom of resentment or any pointless complaisance.

    Elizabeth mentioned as little to both as civility would enable, and sat down once more to her work, with an eagerness which it didn’t usually command. She had ventured just one look at Darcy. He regarded severe, as regular; and, she thought, extra as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at Pemberley. But, maybe he couldn’t in her mom’s presence be what he was earlier than her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, however not an unbelievable, conjecture.

    Bingley, she had likewise seen for an immediate, and in that quick interval noticed him wanting each happy and embarrassed. He was acquired by Mrs. Bennet with a level of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, particularly when contrasted with the chilly and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and deal with to his buddy.

    Elizabeth, notably, who knew that her mom owed to the latter the preservation of her favorite daughter from irremediable infamy, was damage and distressed to a most painful diploma by a distinction so unwell utilized.

    Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did, a query which she couldn’t reply with out confusion, mentioned scarcely something. He was not seated by her; maybe that was the rationale of his silence; but it surely had not been so in Derbyshire. There he had talked to her associates, when he might to not herself. But now a number of minutes elapsed with out bringing the sound of his voice; and when often, unable to withstand the impulse of curiosity, she raised her eyes to his face, she as usually discovered him Jane as at herself, and incessantly on no object however the floor. More thoughtfulness and fewer nervousness to please, than once they final met, have been plainly expressed. She was dissatisfied, and indignant with herself for being so.

    “Could I expect it to be otherwise!” mentioned she. “Yet why did he come?”

    She was in no humour for dialog with anybody however himself; and to him she had hardly braveness to talk.

    She inquired after his sister, however might do no extra.

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

    He readily agreed to it.

    “I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in The Times and The Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It 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. It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”

    Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Elizabeth dared not elevate up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy regarded, due to this fact, she couldn’t inform.

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

    Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was in such distress of disgrace, that she might hardly hold her seat. It drew from her, nevertheless, the exertion of talking, which nothing else had so effectually finished earlier than; and he or she requested Bingley whether or not he meant to make any keep within the nation at current. A number of weeks, he believed.

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

    Elizabeth’s distress elevated, at such pointless, such officious consideration! Were the identical honest prospect to come up at current as had flattered them a 12 months in the past, each factor, she was persuaded, could be hastening to the identical vexatious conclusion. At that immediate, she felt that years of happiness couldn’t make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful confusion.

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

    Yet the distress, for which years of happiness have been to supply no compensation, acquired quickly afterwards materials reduction, from observing how a lot the fantastic thing about her sister re-kindled the admiration of her former lover. When first he got here in, he had spoken to her however little; however each 5 minutes gave the impression to be giving her extra of his consideration. He discovered her as good-looking as she had been final 12 months; pretty much as good natured, and as unaffected, although not fairly so chatty. Jane was anxious that no distinction needs to be perceived in her in any respect, and was actually persuaded that she talked as a lot as ever. But her thoughts was so busily engaged, that she didn’t all the time know when she was silent.

    When the gents rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was conscious of her supposed civility, they usually have been invited and engaged to dine at Longbourn in a number of days time.

    “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. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”

    Bingley regarded a bit foolish at this reflection, and mentioned one thing of his concern at having been prevented by enterprise. They then went away.

    Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to remain and dine there that day; however, although she all the time saved an excellent desk, she didn’t assume something lower than two programs might be ok for a person on whom she had such anxious designs, or fulfill the urge for food and satisfaction of 1 who had ten thousand a 12 months.

    Chapter 54

    As quickly as they have been gone, Elizabeth walked out to get better her spirits; or in different phrases, to dwell with out interruption on these topics that should deaden them extra. Mr. Darcy’s behaviour astonished and vexed her.

    “Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,” mentioned she, “did he come at all?”

    She might settle it on no account that gave her pleasure.

    “He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him.”

    Her decision was for a short while involuntarily saved by the method of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look, which confirmed her higher glad with their guests, than Elizabeth.

    “Now,” mentioned she, “that this first meeting is over, I feel perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides, we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance.”

    “Yes, very indifferent indeed,” mentioned Elizabeth, laughingly. “Oh, Jane, take care.”

    “My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger now?”

    “I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.”

    They didn’t see the gents once more until Tuesday; and Mrs. Bennet, in the intervening time, was giving option to all of the completely happy schemes, which the great humour and customary politeness of Bingley, in half an hour’s go to, had revived.

    On Tuesday there was a big occasion assembled at Longbourn; and the 2 who have been most anxiously anticipated, to the credit score of their punctuality as sportsmen, have been in superb time. When they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether or not Bingley would take the place, which, in all their former events, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mom, occupied by the identical concepts, forbore to ask him to take a seat by herself. On getting into the room, he appeared to hesitate; however Jane occurred to look spherical, and occurred to smile: it was determined. He positioned himself by her.

    Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, regarded in the direction of his buddy. He bore it with noble indifference, and he or she would have imagined that Bingley had acquired his sanction to be completely happy, had she not seen his eyes likewise turned in the direction of Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing alarm.

    His behaviour to her sister was such, throughout supper time, as confirmed an admiration of her, which, although extra guarded than previously, persuaded Elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness, and his personal, could be speedily secured. Though she dared not rely on the consequence, she but acquired pleasure from observing his behaviour. It gave her all of the animation that her spirits might boast; for she was in no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was virtually as removed from her because the desk might divide them. He was on one aspect of her mom. She knew how little such a state of affairs would give pleasure to both, or make both seem to benefit. She was not close to sufficient to listen to any of their discourse, however she might see how seldom they spoke to one another, and the way formal and chilly was their method every time they did. Her mom’s ungraciousness, made the sense of what they owed him extra painful to Elizabeth’s thoughts; and he or she would, at occasions, have given something to be privileged to inform him that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the entire of the household.

    She was in hopes that the night would afford some alternative of bringing them collectively; that the entire of the go to wouldn’t go away with out enabling them to enter into one thing extra of dialog than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the interval which handed within the drawing-room, earlier than the gents got here, was wearisome and uninteresting to a level that just about made her uncivil. She regarded ahead to their entrance as the purpose on which all her likelihood of delight for the night should rely.

    “If he does not come to me, then,” mentioned she, “I shall give him up for ever.”

    The gents got here; and he or she thought he regarded as if he would have answered her hopes; however, alas! the women had crowded around the desk, the place Miss Bennet was making tea, and Elizabeth pouring out the espresso, in so shut a confederacy that there was not a single emptiness close to her which might admit of a chair. And on the gents’s approaching, one of many women moved nearer to her than ever, and mentioned, in a whisper:

    “The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; do we?”

    Darcy had walked away to a different a part of the room. She adopted him together with her eyes, envied everybody to whom he spoke, had scarcely persistence sufficient to assist anyone to espresso; after which was enraged towards herself for being so foolish!

    “A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent to their feelings!”

    She was a bit revived, nevertheless, by his bringing again his espresso cup himself; and he or she seized the chance of claiming:

    “Is your sister at Pemberley still?”

    “Yes, she will remain there till Christmas.”

    “And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”

    “Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough, these three weeks.”

    She might consider nothing extra to say; but when he wished to converse together with her, he might need higher success. He stood by her, nevertheless, for some minutes, in silence; and, finally, on the younger woman’s whispering to Elizabeth once more, he walked away.

    When the tea-things have been eliminated, and the card-tables positioned, the women all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping to be quickly joined by him, when all her views have been overthrown by seeing him fall a sufferer to her mom’s rapacity for whist gamers, and in a number of moments after seated with the remainder of the occasion. She now misplaced each expectation of delight. They have been confined for the night at completely different tables, and he or she had nothing to hope, however that his eyes have been so usually turned in the direction of her aspect of the room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.

    Mrs. Bennet had designed to maintain the 2 Netherfield gents to supper; however their carriage was unluckily ordered earlier than any of the others, and he or she had no alternative of detaining them.

    “Well girls,” mentioned she, as quickly as they have been left to themselves, “What say you to the day? I think every thing has passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a turn—and everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The soup was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases’ last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three French cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look in greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her whether you did not. And what do you think she said besides? ‘Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last.’ She did indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as ever lived—and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously.”

    Mrs. Bennet, briefly, was in very nice spirits; she had seen sufficient of Bingley’s behaviour to Jane, to be satisfied that she would get him finally; and her expectations of benefit to her household, when in a cheerful humour, have been to this point past cause, that she was fairly dissatisfied at not seeing him there once more the following day, to make his proposals.

    “It has been a very agreeable day,” mentioned Miss Bennet to Elizabeth. “The party seemed so well selected, so suitable one with the other. I hope we may often meet again.”

    Elizabeth smiled.

    “Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man, without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied, from what his manners now are, that he never had any design of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of generally pleasing, than any other man.”

    “You are very cruel,” mentioned her sister, “you will not let me smile, and are provoking me to it every moment.”

    “How hard it is in some cases to be believed!”

    “And how impossible in others!”

    “But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?”

    “That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do not make me your confidante.”

    Chapter 55

    A number of days after this go to, Mr. Bingley referred to as once more, and alone. His buddy had left him that morning for London, however was to return dwelling in ten days time. He sat with them above an hour, and was in remarkably good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited him to dine with them; however, with many expressions of concern, he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.

    “Next time you call,” mentioned she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.”

    He needs to be notably completely happy at any time, and so forth. and so forth.; and if she would give him go away, would take an early alternative of ready on them.

    “Can you come to-morrow?”

    Yes, he had no engagement in any respect for to-morrow; and her invitation was accepted with alacrity.

    He got here, and in such superb time that the women have been none of them dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughter’s room, in her dressing robe, and together with her hair half completed, crying out:

    “My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come—Mr. Bingley is come. He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste. Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy’s hair.”

    “We will be down as soon as we can,” mentioned Jane; “but I dare say Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs half an hour ago.”

    “Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick, be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?”

    But when her mom was gone, Jane wouldn’t be prevailed on to go down with out one among her sisters.

    The similar nervousness to get them by themselves was seen once more within the night. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his customized, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the 5 being thus eliminated, Mrs. Bennet sat wanting and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a substantial time, with out making any impression on them. Elizabeth wouldn’t observe her; and when finally Kitty did, she very innocently mentioned, “What is the matter mamma? What do you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”

    “Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you.” She then sat nonetheless 5 minutes longer; however unable to waste such a valuable event, she abruptly obtained up, and saying to Kitty, “Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” took her out of the room. Jane immediately gave a have a look at Elizabeth which spoke her misery at such premeditation, and her entreaty that she wouldn’t give in to it. In a couple of minutes, Mrs. Bennet half-opened the door and referred to as out:

    “Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”

    Elizabeth was compelled to go.

    “We may as well leave them by themselves you know;” mentioned her mom, as quickly as she was within the corridor. “Kitty and I are going up stairs to sit in my dressing-room.”

    Elizabeth made no try and cause together with her mom, however remained quietly within the corridor, until she and Kitty have been out of sight, then returned into the drawing-room.

    Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for today have been ineffectual. Bingley was each factor that was charming, besides the professed lover of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable addition to their night occasion; and he bore with the ill-judged officiousness of the mom, and heard all her foolish remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance notably grateful to the daughter.

    He scarcely wanted an invite to remain supper; and earlier than he went away, an engagement was shaped, mainly via his personal and Mrs. Bennet’s means, for his coming subsequent morning to shoot together with her husband.

    After today, Jane mentioned no extra of her indifference. Not a phrase handed between the sisters regarding Bingley; however Elizabeth went to mattress within the completely happy perception that each one should speedily be concluded, except Mr. Darcy returned inside the acknowledged time. Seriously, nevertheless, she felt tolerably persuaded that each one this should have taken place with that gentleman’s concurrence.

    Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet spent the morning collectively, as had been agreed on. The latter was far more agreeable than his companion anticipated. There was nothing of presumption or folly in Bingley that might provoke his ridicule, or disgust him into silence; and he was extra communicative, and fewer eccentric, than the opposite had ever seen him. Bingley in fact returned with him to dinner; and within the night Mrs. Bennet’s invention was once more at work to get each physique away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a letter to put in writing, went into the breakfast room for that goal quickly after tea; for because the others have been all going to take a seat all the way down to playing cards, she couldn’t be needed to counteract her mom’s schemes.

    But on returning to the drawing-room, when her letter was completed, she noticed, to her infinite shock, there was cause to concern that her mom had been too ingenious for her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and Bingley standing collectively over the fireside, as if engaged in earnest dialog; and had this led to no suspicion, the faces of each, as they rapidly turned spherical and moved away from one another, would have instructed all of it. Their state of affairs was awkward sufficient; however hers she thought was nonetheless worse. Not a syllable was uttered by both; and Elizabeth was on the purpose of going away once more, when Bingley, who in addition to the opposite had sat down, abruptly rose, and whispering a number of phrases to her sister, ran out of the room.

    Jane might haven’t any reserves from Elizabeth, the place confidence would give pleasure; and immediately embracing her, acknowledged, with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature on the planet.

    “‘Tis too much!” she added, “by far too much. I do not deserve it. Oh! why is not everybody as happy?”

    Elizabeth’s congratulations got with a sincerity, a heat, a delight, which phrases might however poorly specific. Every sentence of kindness was a contemporary supply of happiness to Jane. But she wouldn’t enable herself to stick with her sister, or say half that remained to be mentioned for the current.

    “I must go instantly to my mother;” she cried. “I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow her to hear it from anyone but myself. He is gone to my father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate will give such pleasure to all my dear family! how shall I bear so much happiness!”

    She then hastened away to her mom, who had purposely damaged up the cardboard occasion, and was sitting up stairs with Kitty.

    Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled on the rapidity and ease with which an affair was lastly settled, that had given them so many earlier months of suspense and vexation.

    “And this,” mentioned she, “is the end of all his friend’s anxious circumspection! of all his sister’s falsehood and contrivance! the happiest, wisest, most reasonable end!”

    In a couple of minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose convention together with her father had been quick and to the aim.

    “Where is your sister?” mentioned he rapidly, as he opened the door.

    “With my mother up stairs. She will be down in a moment, I dare say.”

    He then shut the door, and, coming as much as her, claimed the great needs and affection of a sister. Elizabeth actually and heartily expressed her delight within the prospect of their relationship. They shook palms with nice cordiality; after which, until her sister got here down, she needed to take heed to all he needed to say of his personal happiness, and of Jane’s perfections; and despite his being a lover, Elizabeth actually believed all his expectations of felicity to be rationally based, as a result of that they had for foundation the wonderful understanding, and super-excellent disposition of Jane, and a basic similarity of feeling and style between her and himself.

    It was a night of no widespread delight to all of them; the satisfaction of Miss Bennet’s thoughts gave a glow of such candy animation to her face, as made her look handsomer than ever. Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped her flip was coming quickly. Mrs. Bennet couldn’t give her consent or converse her approbation in phrases heat sufficient to fulfill her emotions, although she talked to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and method plainly confirmed how actually completely happy he was.

    Not a phrase, nevertheless, handed his lips in allusion to it, until their customer took his go away for the night time; however as quickly as he was gone, he turned to his daughter, and mentioned:

    “Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman.”

    Jane went to him immediately, kissed him, and thanked him for his goodness.

    “You are a good girl;” he replied, “and I have great pleasure in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income.”

    “I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters would be unpardonable in me.”

    “Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet,” cried his spouse, “what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a year, and very likely more.” Then addressing her daughter, “Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan’t get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is the handsomest young man that ever was seen!”

    Wickham, Lydia, have been all forgotten. Jane was past competitors her favorite little one. At that second, she cared for no different. Her youthful sisters quickly started to make curiosity together with her for objects of happiness which she may in future be capable of dispense.

    Mary petitioned for using the library at Netherfield; and Kitty begged very laborious for a number of balls there each winter.

    Bingley, from this time, was in fact a day by day customer at Longbourn; coming incessantly earlier than breakfast, and all the time remaining until after supper; except when some barbarous neighbour, who couldn’t be sufficient detested, had given him an invite to dinner which he thought himself obliged to just accept.

    Elizabeth had now however little time for dialog together with her sister; for whereas he was current, Jane had no consideration to bestow on anybody else; however she discovered herself significantly helpful to each of them in these hours of separation that should generally happen. In the absence of Jane, he all the time connected himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure of speaking of her; and when Bingley was gone, Jane continually sought the identical technique of reduction.

    “He has made me so happy,” mentioned she, one night, “by telling me that he was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed it possible.”

    “I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for it?”

    “It must have been his sister’s doing. They were certainly no friends to his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see, as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again; though we can never be what we once were to each other.”

    “That is the most unforgiving speech,” mentioned Elizabeth, “that I ever heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.”

    “Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of my being indifferent would have prevented his coming down again!”

    “He made a little mistake to be sure; but it is to the credit of his modesty.”

    This naturally launched a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and the little worth he placed on his personal good qualities. Elizabeth was happy to search out that he had not betrayed the interference of his buddy; for, although Jane had probably the most beneficiant and forgiving coronary heart on the planet, she knew it was a circumstance which should prejudice her towards him.

    “I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried Jane. “Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed above them all! If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such another man for you!”

    “If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.”

    The state of affairs of affairs within the Longbourn household couldn’t be lengthy a secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Phillips, and he or she ventured, with none permission, to do the identical by all her neighbours in Meryton.

    The Bennets have been speedily pronounced to be the luckiest household on the planet, although only some weeks earlier than, when Lydia had first run away, that they had been typically proved to be marked out for misfortune.

    Chapter 56

    One morning, a couple of week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been shaped, as he and the females of the household have been sitting collectively within the dining-room, their consideration was abruptly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage; they usually perceived a chaise and 4 driving up the garden. It was too early within the morning for guests, and moreover, the equipage didn’t reply to that of any of their neighbours. The horses have been submit; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who preceded it, have been acquainted to them. As it was sure, nevertheless, that any person was coming, Bingley immediately prevailed on Miss Bennet to keep away from the confinement of such an intrusion, and stroll away with him into the shrubbery. They each set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three continued, although with little satisfaction, until the door was thrown open and their customer entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

    They have been in fact all desiring to be shocked; however their astonishment was past their expectation; and on the a part of Mrs. Bennet and Kitty, although she was completely unknown to them, even inferior to what Elizabeth felt.

    She entered the room with an air greater than often ungracious, made no different reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the pinnacle, and sat down with out saying a phrase. Elizabeth had talked about her identify to her mom on her ladyship’s entrance, although no request of introduction had been made.

    Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, although flattered by having a visitor of such excessive significance, acquired her with the utmost politeness. After sitting for a second in silence, she mentioned very stiffly to Elizabeth,

    “I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your mother.”

    Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.

    “And that I suppose is one of your sisters.”

    “Yes, madam,” mentioned Mrs. Bennet, delighted to talk to Lady Catherine. “She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the grounds, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.”

    “You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine after a brief silence.

    “It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say; but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”

    “This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening, in summer; the windows are full west.”

    Mrs. Bennet assured her that they by no means sat there after dinner, after which added:

    “May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well.”

    “Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”

    Elizabeth now anticipated that she would produce a letter for her from Charlotte, because it appeared the one possible motive for her calling. But no letter appeared, and he or she was utterly puzzled.

    Mrs. Bennet, with nice civility, begged her ladyship to take some refreshment; however Lady Catherine very resolutely, and never very politely, declined consuming something; after which, rising up, mentioned to Elizabeth,

    “Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company.”

    “Go, my dear,” cried her mom, “and show her ladyship about the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”

    Elizabeth obeyed, and operating into her personal room for her parasol, attended her noble visitor downstairs. As they handed via the corridor, Lady Catherine opened the doorways into the dining-parlour and drawing-room, and saying them, after a brief survey, to be respectable wanting rooms, walked on.

    Her carriage remained on the door, and Elizabeth noticed that her waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence alongside the gravel stroll that led to the copse; Elizabeth was decided to make no effort for dialog with a girl who was now greater than often insolent and unpleasant.

    “How could I ever think her like her nephew?” mentioned she, as she regarded in her face.

    As quickly as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine started within the following method:—

    “You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come.”

    Elizabeth regarded with unaffected astonishment.

    “Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here.”

    “Miss Bennet,” replied her ladyship, in an indignant tone, “you ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.”

    “If you believed it impossible to be true,” mentioned Elizabeth, colouring with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?”

    “At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”

    “Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” mentioned Elizabeth coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence.”

    “If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?”

    “I never heard that it was.”

    “And can you likewise declare, that there is no foundation for it?”

    “I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.”

    “This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”

    “Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”

    “It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in.”

    “If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”

    “Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”

    “But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit.”

    “Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”

    “Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.”

    Lady Catherine hesitated for a second, after which replied:

    “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of his mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles, we planned the union: and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”

    “Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”

    “Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any of us.”

    “These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”

    “Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”

    “That will make your ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable; but it will have no effect on me.”

    “I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, honourable, and ancient—though untitled—families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured! But it must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”

    “In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are equal.”

    “True. You are a gentleman’s daughter. But who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition.”

    “Whatever my connections may be,” mentioned Elizabeth, “if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you.”

    “Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?”

    Though Elizabeth wouldn’t, for the mere goal of obliging Lady Catherine, have answered this query, she couldn’t however say, after a second’s deliberation:

    “I am not.”

    Lady Catherine appeared happy.

    “And will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement?”

    “I will make no promise of the kind.”

    “Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require.”

    “And I certainly never shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject.”

    “Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the objections I have already urged, I have still another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a patched-up business, at the expence of your father and uncles. And is such a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is her husband, is the son of his late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!—of what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”

    “You can now have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered. “You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg to return to the house.”

    And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose additionally, they usually turned again. Her ladyship was extremely incensed.

    “You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”

    “Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”

    “You are then resolved to have him?”

    “I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”

    “It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him in the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”

    “Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “have any possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former were excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s concern—and the world in general would have too much sense to join in the scorn.”

    “And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you reasonable; but, depend upon it, I will carry my point.”

    In this way Lady Catherine talked on, until they have been on the door of the carriage, when, turning rapidly spherical, she added, “I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”

    Elizabeth made no reply; and with out trying to steer her ladyship to return into the home, walked quietly into it herself. She heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded up stairs. Her mom impatiently met her on the door of the dressing-room, to ask why Lady Catherine wouldn’t are available once more and relaxation herself.

    “She did not choose it,” mentioned her daughter, “she would go.”

    “She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well. She is on her road somewhere, I dare say, and so, passing through Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”

    Elizabeth was compelled to offer into a bit falsehood right here; for to acknowledge the substance of their dialog was unimaginable.

    Chapter 57

    The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary go to threw Elizabeth into, couldn’t be simply overcome; nor might she, for a lot of hours, study to consider it lower than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it appeared, had truly taken the difficulty of this journey from Rosings, for the only goal of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to make certain! however from what the report of their engagement might originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to think about; until she recollected that his being the intimate buddy of Bingley, and her being the sister of Jane, was sufficient, at a time when the expectation of 1 wedding ceremony made everyone keen for an additional, to provide the thought. She had not herself forgotten to really feel that the wedding of her sister should convey them extra incessantly collectively. And her neighbours at Lucas Lodge, due to this fact (for via their communication with the Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine), had solely set that down as virtually sure and rapid, which she had regarded ahead to as potential at some future time.

    In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, nevertheless, she couldn’t assist feeling some uneasiness as to the potential consequence of her persisting on this interference. From what she had mentioned of her decision to forestall their marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she should meditate an utility to her nephew; and the way he may take an analogous illustration of the evils connected to a connection together with her, she dared not pronounce. She knew not the precise diploma of his affection for his aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it surely was pure to suppose that he thought a lot increased of her ladyship than she might do; and it was sure that, in enumerating the miseries of a wedding with one, whose rapid connections have been so unequal to his personal, his aunt would deal with him on his weakest aspect. With his notions of dignity, he would in all probability really feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous, contained a lot good sense and stable reasoning.

    If he had been wavering earlier than as to what he ought to do, which had usually appeared possible, the recommendation and entreaty of so close to a relation may settle each doubt, and decide him without delay to be as completely happy as dignity unblemished might make him. In that case he would return no extra. Lady Catherine may see him in her means via city; and his engagement to Bingley of coming once more to Netherfield should give means.

    “If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him at all.”

    The shock of the remainder of the household, on listening to who their customer had been, was very nice; however they obligingly glad it, with the identical type of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and Elizabeth was spared from a lot teasing on the topic.

    The subsequent morning, as she was going downstairs, she was met by her father, who got here out of his library with a letter in his hand.

    “Lizzy,” mentioned he, “I was going to look for you; come into my room.”

    She adopted him thither; and her curiosity to know what he needed to inform her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some method related with the letter he held. It abruptly struck her that it is perhaps from Lady Catherine; and he or she anticipated with dismay all the resultant explanations.

    She adopted her father to the hearth place, they usually each sat down. He then mentioned,

    “I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its contents. I did not know before, that I had two daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”

    The color now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks within the instantaneous conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, as a substitute of the aunt; and he or she was undetermined whether or not most to be happy that he defined himself in any respect, or offended that his letter was not relatively addressed to herself; when her father continued:

    “You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters as these; but I think I may defy even your sagacity, to discover the name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”

    “From Mr. Collins! and what can he have to say?”

    “Something very a lot to the aim in fact. He begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of which, it appears, he has been instructed by a number of the good-natured, gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport together with your impatience, by studying what he says on that time. What pertains to your self, is as follows: ‘Having thus provided you the honest congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on this completely happy occasion, let me now add a brief trace as regards to one other; of which we now have been marketed by the identical authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it’s presumed, won’t lengthy bear the identify of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen companion of her destiny could also be fairly regarded as much as as one of the vital illustrious personages on this land.’

    “Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?” ‘This younger gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar means, with each factor the guts of mortal can most need,—splendid property, noble kindred, and intensive patronage. Yet despite all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and your self, of what evils you could incur by a precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, in fact, you’ll be inclined to take rapid benefit of.’

    “Have you any concept, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out:

    “‘My motive for cautioning you is as follows. We have cause to think about that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, doesn’t look on the match with a pleasant eye.’

    “Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I have surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man within the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life! It is admirable!”

    Elizabeth tried to hitch in her father’s pleasantry, however might solely drive one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a way so little agreeable to her.

    “Are you not diverted?”

    “Oh! yes. Pray read on.”

    “‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr. Collins moreover adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their living together before the marriage took place should be so generally known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement at hearing that you received the young couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them, as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ That is his notion of Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?”

    “Oh!” cried Elizabeth, “I am excessively diverted. But it is so strange!”

    “Yes—that is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man it would have been nothing; but his perfect indifference, and your pointed dislike, make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”

    To this query his daughter replied solely with amusing; and because it had been requested with out the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had by no means been extra at a loss to make her emotions seem what they weren’t. It was essential to chortle, when she would relatively have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her, by what he mentioned of Mr. Darcy’s indifference, and he or she might do nothing however surprise at such a need of penetration, or concern that maybe, as a substitute of his seeing too little, she might need fancied an excessive amount of.

    Chapter 58

    Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his buddy, as Elizabeth half anticipated Mr. Bingley to do, he was in a position to convey Darcy with him to Longbourn earlier than many days had handed after Lady Catherine’s go to. The gents arrived early; and, earlier than Mrs. Bennet had time to inform him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who needed to be alone with Jane, proposed their all strolling out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not within the behavior of strolling; Mary might by no means spare time; however the remaining 5 set off collectively. Bingley and Jane, nevertheless, quickly allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, whereas Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy have been to entertain one another. Very little was mentioned by both; Kitty was an excessive amount of afraid of him to speak; Elizabeth was secretly forming a determined decision; and maybe he is perhaps doing the identical.

    They walked in the direction of the Lucases, as a result of Kitty wished to name upon Maria; and as Elizabeth noticed no event for making it a basic concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the second for her decision to be executed, and, whereas her braveness was excessive, she instantly mentioned:

    “Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”

    “I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of shock and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”

    “You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”

    “If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”

    Elizabeth was an excessive amount of embarrassed to say a phrase. After a brief pause, her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”

    Elizabeth, feeling all of the greater than widespread awkwardness and nervousness of his state of affairs, now compelled herself to talk; and instantly, although not very fluently, gave him to know that her sentiments had undergone so materials a change, because the interval to which he alluded, as to make her obtain with gratitude and pleasure his current assurances. The happiness which this reply produced, was comparable to he had in all probability by no means felt earlier than; and he expressed himself on the event as sensibly and as warmly as a person violently in love will be imagined to do. Had Elizabeth been in a position to encounter his eye, she might need seen how nicely the expression of heartfelt delight, subtle over his face, turned him; however, although she couldn’t look, she might pay attention, and he instructed her of emotions, which, in proving of what significance she was to him, made his affection each second extra beneficial.

    They walked on, with out figuring out in what course. There was an excessive amount of to be thought, and felt, and mentioned, for consideration to another objects. She quickly learnt that they have been indebted for his or her current good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did name on him in her return via London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her dialog with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on each expression of the latter which, in her ladyship’s apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance; within the perception that such a relation should help her endeavours to acquire that promise from her nephew which she had refused to offer. But, unluckily for her ladyship, its impact had been precisely contrariwise.

    “It taught me to hope,” mentioned he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly.”

    Elizabeth colored and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.”

    “What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”

    “We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” mentioned Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”

    “I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;—though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”

    “I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”

    “I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”

    “Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”

    Darcy talked about his letter. “Did it,” mentioned he, “did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”

    She defined what its impact on her had been, and the way steadily all her former prejudices had been eliminated.

    “I knew,” mentioned he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”

    “The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.”

    “When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”

    “The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”

    “I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”

    “Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?”

    “Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses.”

    “My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after thatevening?”

    “Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon began to take a proper direction.”

    “I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”

    “No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise.”

    “Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due.”

    “My object then,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you.”

    He then instructed her of Georgiana’s enjoyment of her acquaintance, and of her disappointment at its sudden interruption; which naturally resulting in the reason for that interruption, she quickly learnt that his decision of following her from Derbyshire in quest of her sister had been shaped earlier than he quitted the inn, and that his gravity and thoughtfulness there had arisen from no different struggles than what such a goal should comprehend.

    She expressed her gratitude once more, but it surely was too painful a topic to every, to be dwelt on farther.

    After strolling a number of miles in a leisurely method, and too busy to know something about it, they discovered finally, on inspecting their watches, that it was time to be at dwelling.

    “What could become of Mr. Bingley and Jane!” was a surprise which launched the dialogue of their affairs. Darcy was delighted with their engagement; his buddy had given him the earliest data of it.

    “I must ask whether you were surprised?” mentioned Elizabeth.

    “Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen.”

    “That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much.” And although he exclaimed on the time period, she discovered that it had been just about the case.

    “On the evening before my going to London,” mentioned he, “I made a confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together.”

    Elizabeth couldn’t assist smiling at his straightforward method of directing his buddy.

    “Did you speak from your own observation,” mentioned she, “when you told him that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?”

    “From the former. I had narrowly observed her during the two visits which I had lately made here; and I was convinced of her affection.”

    “And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to him.”

    “It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine made every thing easy. I was obliged to confess one thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained in any doubt of your sister’s sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me now.”

    Elizabeth longed to watch that Mr. Bingley had been a most pleasant buddy; so simply guided that his value was invaluable; however she checked herself. She remembered that he had but to study to be laughed at, and it was relatively too early to start. In anticipating the happiness of Bingley, which in fact was to be inferior solely to his personal, he continued the dialog until they reached the home. In the corridor they parted.

    Chapter 59

    “My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?” was a query which Elizabeth acquired from Jane as quickly as she entered their room, and from all of the others once they sat all the way down to desk. She had solely to say in reply, that that they had wandered about, until she was past her personal information. She colored as she spoke; however neither that, nor anything, woke up a suspicion of the reality.

    The night handed quietly, unmarked by something extraordinary. The acknowledged lovers talked and laughed, the unacknowledged have been silent. Darcy was not of a disposition wherein happiness overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, relatively knew that she was completely happy than felt herself to be so; for, moreover the rapid embarrassment, there have been different evils earlier than her. She anticipated what could be felt within the household when her state of affairs turned recognized; she was conscious that nobody preferred him however Jane; and even feared that with the others it was a dislike which not all his fortune and consequence may do away.

    At night time she opened her coronary heart to Jane. Though suspicion was very removed from Miss Bennet’s basic habits, she was completely incredulous right here.

    “You are joking, Lizzy. This cannot be!—engaged to Mr. Darcy! No, no, you shall not deceive me. I know it to be impossible.”

    “This is a wretched beginning indeed! My sole dependence was on you; and I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet, indeed, I am in earnest. I speak nothing but the truth. He still loves me, and we are engaged.”

    Jane checked out her doubtingly. “Oh, Lizzy! it cannot be. I know how much you dislike him.”

    “You know nothing of the matter. That is all to be forgot. Perhaps I did not always love him so well as I do now. But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable. This is the last time I shall ever remember it myself.”

    Miss Bennet nonetheless regarded all amazement. Elizabeth once more, and extra severely assured her of its fact.

    “Good Heaven! can it be really so! Yet now I must believe you,” cried Jane. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would—I do congratulate you—but are you certain? forgive the question—are you quite certain that you can be happy with him?”

    “There can be no doubt of that. It is settled between us already, that we are to be the happiest couple in the world. But are you pleased, Jane? Shall you like to have such a brother?”

    “Very, very much. Nothing could give either Bingley or myself more delight. But we considered it, we talked of it as impossible. And do you really love him quite well enough? Oh, Lizzy! do anything rather than marry without affection. Are you quite sure that you feel what you ought to do?”

    “Oh, yes! You will only think I feel more than I ought to do, when I tell you all.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Why, I must confess that I love him better than I do Bingley. I am afraid you will be angry.”

    “My dearest sister, now be serious. I want to talk very seriously. Let me know every thing that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him?”

    “It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.”

    Another entreaty that she could be severe, nevertheless, produced the specified impact; and he or she quickly glad Jane by her solemn assurances of attachment. When satisfied on that article, Miss Bennet had nothing additional to want.

    “Now I am quite happy,” mentioned she, “for you will be as happy as myself. I always had a value for him. Were it for nothing but his love of you, I must always have esteemed him; but now, as Bingley’s friend and your husband, there can be only Bingley and yourself more dear to me. But Lizzy, you have been very sly, very reserved with me. How little did you tell me of what passed at Pemberley and Lambton! I owe all that I know of it to another, not to you.”

    Elizabeth instructed her the motives of her secrecy. She had been unwilling to say Bingley; and the unsettled state of her personal emotions had made her equally keep away from the identify of his buddy. But now she would now not conceal from her his share in Lydia’s marriage. All was acknowledged, and half the night time spent in dialog.

    “Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the following morning, “if that disagreeable Mr. Darcy is not coming here again with our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here? I had no notion but he would go a-shooting, or something or other, and not disturb us with his company. What shall we do with him? Lizzy, you must walk out with him again, that he may not be in Bingley’s way.”

    Elizabeth might hardly assist laughing at so handy a proposal; but was actually vexed that her mom needs to be all the time giving him such an epithet.

    As quickly as they entered, Bingley checked out her so expressively, and shook palms with such heat, as left little question of his good data; and he quickly afterwards mentioned aloud, “Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to-day?”

    “I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty,” mentioned Mrs. Bennet, “to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view.”

    “It may do very well for the others,” replied Mr. Bingley; “but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won’t it, Kitty?” Kitty owned that she had relatively keep at dwelling. Darcy professed an ideal curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. As she went up stairs to prepare, Mrs. Bennet adopted her, saying:

    “I am quite sorry, Lizzy, that you should be forced to have that disagreeable man all to yourself. But I hope you will not mind it: it is all for Jane’s sake, you know; and there is no occasion for talking to him, except just now and then. So, do not put yourself to inconvenience.”

    During their stroll, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent needs to be requested in the midst of the night. Elizabeth reserved to herself the appliance for her mom’s. She couldn’t decide how her mom would take it; generally doubting whether or not all his wealth and grandeur could be sufficient to beat her abhorrence of the person. But whether or not she have been violently set towards the match, or violently delighted with it, it was sure that her method could be equally unwell tailored to do credit score to her sense; and he or she might no extra bear that Mr. Darcy ought to hear the primary raptures of her pleasure, than the primary vehemence of her disapprobation.

    In the night, quickly after Mr. Bennet withdrew to the library, she noticed Mr. Darcy rise additionally and observe him, and her agitation on seeing it was excessive. She didn’t concern her father’s opposition, however he was going to be made sad; and that it needs to be via her means—that she, his favorite little one, needs to be distressing him by her alternative, needs to be filling him with fears and regrets in disposing of her—was a wretched reflection, and he or she sat in distress until Mr. Darcy appeared once more, when, him, she was a bit relieved by his smile. In a couple of minutes he approached the desk the place she was sitting with Kitty; and, whereas pretending to admire her work mentioned in a whisper, “Go to your father, he wants you in the library.” She was gone immediately.

    Her father was strolling in regards to the room, wanting grave and anxious. “Lizzy,” mentioned he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”

    How earnestly did she then want that her former opinions had been extra affordable, her expressions extra average! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to offer; however they have been now vital, and he or she assured him, with some confusion, of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.

    “Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?”

    “Have you any other objection,” mentioned Elizabeth, “than your belief of my indifference?”

    “None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”

    “I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes, “I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.”

    “Lizzy,” mentioned her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about.”

    Elizabeth, nonetheless extra affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at size, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was actually the thing of her alternative, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, however had stood the check of many months’ suspense, and enumerating with power all his good qualities, she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.

    “Well, my dear,” mentioned he, when she ceased talking, “I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to anyone less worthy.”

    To full the beneficial impression, she then instructed him what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily finished for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment.

    “This is an evening of wonders, indeed! And so, Darcy did every thing; made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and would have paid him; but these violent young lovers carry every thing their own way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow; he will rant and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.”

    He then recollected her embarrassment a number of days earlier than, on his studying Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her a while, allowed her finally to go—saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”

    Elizabeth’s thoughts was now relieved from a really heavy weight; and, after half an hour’s quiet reflection in her personal room, she was in a position to be a part of the others with tolerable composure. Every factor was too latest for gaiety, however the night handed tranquilly away; there was now not something materials to be dreaded, and the consolation of ease and familiarity would are available time.

    When her mom went as much as her dressing-room at night time, she adopted her, and made the essential communication. Its impact was most extraordinary; for on first listening to it, Mrs. Bennet sat fairly nonetheless, and unable to utter a syllable. Nor was it below many, many minutes that she might comprehend what she heard; although not normally backward to credit score what was for the benefit of her household, or that got here within the form of a lover to any of them. She started at size to get better, to fidget about in her chair, rise up, sit down once more, surprise, and bless herself.

    “Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great you will be! What pin-money, what jewels, what carriages you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it—nothing at all. I am so pleased—so happy. Such a charming man!—so handsome! so tall!—Oh, my dear Lizzy! pray apologise for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town! Every thing that is charming! Three daughters married! Ten thousand a year! Oh, Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted.”

    This was sufficient to show that her approbation needn’t be doubted: and Elizabeth, rejoicing that such an effusion was heard solely by herself, quickly went away. But earlier than she had been three minutes in her personal room, her mom adopted her.

    “My dearest child,” she cried, “I can think of nothing else! Ten thousand a year, and very likely more! ‘Tis as good as a Lord! And a special licence. You must and shall be married by a special licence. But my dearest love, tell me what dish Mr. Darcy is particularly fond of, that I may have it to-morrow.”

    This was a tragic omen of what her mom’s behaviour to the gentleman himself is perhaps; and Elizabeth discovered that, although within the sure possession of his warmest affection, and safe of her relations’ consent, there was nonetheless one thing to be wished for. But the morrow handed off a lot better than she anticipated; for Mrs. Bennet fortunately stood in such awe of her supposed son-in-law that she ventured to not converse to him, except it was in her energy to supply him any consideration, or mark her deference for his opinion.

    Elizabeth had the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get acquainted with him; and Mr. Bennet quickly assured her that he was rising each hour in his esteem.

    “I admire all my three sons-in-law highly,” mentioned he. “Wickham, perhaps, is my favourite; but I think I shall like your husband quite as well as Jane’s.”

    Chapter 60

    Elizabeth’s spirits quickly rising to playfulness once more, she needed Mr. Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love together with her. “How could you begin?” mentioned she. “I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?”

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

    “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. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?”

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

    “You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them. Had 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. There—I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me—but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.”

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

    “Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My 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. What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?”

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

    “But I was embarrassed.”

    “And so was I.”

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

    “A man who had felt less, might.”

    “How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you would have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when you would have spoken, if I had not asked you! My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. Too 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. This will never do.”

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

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

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

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

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

    “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. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected.”

    From an unwillingness to admit how a lot her intimacy with Mr. Darcy had been over-rated, Elizabeth had by no means but answered Mrs. Gardiner’s lengthy letter; however now, having that to speak which she knew could be most welcome, she was virtually ashamed to search out that her uncle and aunt had already misplaced three days of happiness, and instantly wrote as follows:

    “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. You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as much as you choose; give a loose rein 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. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Mr. Darcy sends you all the love in the world that he can spare from me. You are all to come to Pemberley at Christmas. Yours, etc.”

    Mr. Darcy’s letter to Lady Catherine was in a special fashion; and nonetheless completely different from both was what Mr. Bennet despatched to Mr. Collins, in reply to his final.

    “DEAR SIR,

    “I have to bother you as soon as extra for congratulations. Elizabeth will quickly be the spouse of Mr. Darcy. Console Lady Catherine in addition to you’ll be able to. But, if I have been you, I’d stand by the nephew. He has extra to offer.

    “Yours sincerely, etc.”

    Miss Bingley’s congratulations to her brother, on his approaching marriage, have been all that was affectionate and insincere. She wrote even to Jane on the event, to specific her delight, and repeat all her former professions of regard. Jane was not deceived, however she was affected; and although feeling no reliance on her, couldn’t assist writing her a a lot kinder reply than she knew was deserved.

    The pleasure which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving related data, was as honest as her brother’s in sending it. Four sides of paper have been inadequate to comprise all her delight, and all her earnest need of being cherished by her sister.

    Before any reply might arrive from Mr. Collins, or any congratulations to Elizabeth from his spouse, the Longbourn household heard that the Collinses have been come themselves to Lucas Lodge. The cause of this sudden elimination was quickly evident. Lady Catherine had been rendered so exceedingly indignant by the contents of her nephew’s letter, that Charlotte, actually rejoicing within the match, was anxious to get away until the storm was blown over. At such a second, the arrival of her buddy was a honest pleasure to Elizabeth, although in the midst of their conferences she should generally assume the pleasure dearly purchased, when she noticed Mr. Darcy uncovered to all of the parading and obsequious civility of her husband. He bore it, nevertheless, with admirable calmness. He might even take heed to Sir William Lucas, when he complimented him on carrying away the brightest jewel of the nation, and expressed his hopes of their all assembly incessantly at St. James’s, with very respectable composure. If he did shrug his shoulders, it was not until Sir William was out of sight.

    Mrs. Phillips’s vulgarity was one other, and maybe a larger, tax on his forbearance; and although Mrs. Phillips, in addition to her sister, stood in an excessive amount of awe of him to talk with the familiarity which Bingley’s good humour inspired, but, every time she did converse, she should be vulgar. Nor was her respect for him, although it made her extra quiet, in any respect more likely to make her extra elegant. Elizabeth did all she might to defend him from the frequent discover of both, and was ever anxious to maintain him to herself, and to these of her household with whom he may converse with out mortification; and although the uncomfortable emotions arising from all this took from the season of courtship a lot of its pleasure, it added to the hope of the long run; and he or she regarded ahead with delight to the time when they need to be faraway from society so little pleasing to both, to all of the consolation and class of their household occasion at Pemberley.

    Chapter 61

    Happy for all her maternal emotions was the day on which Mrs. Bennet removed her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted satisfaction she afterwards visited Mrs. Bingley, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, could also be guessed. I want I might say, for the sake of her household, that the accomplishment of her earnest need within the institution of so a lot of her kids produced so completely happy an impact as to make her a smart, amiable, well-informed lady for the remainder of her life; although maybe it was fortunate for her husband, who won’t have relished home felicity in so uncommon a type, that she nonetheless was often nervous and invariably foolish.

    Mr. Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her drew him oftener from dwelling than anything might do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, particularly when he was least anticipated.

    Mr. Bingley and Jane remained at Netherfield solely a twelvemonth. So close to a neighborhood to her mom and Meryton relations was not fascinating even to his straightforward mood, or her affectionate coronary heart. The darling want of his sisters was then gratified; he purchased an property in a neighbouring county to Derbyshire, and Jane and Elizabeth, along with each different supply of happiness, have been inside thirty miles of one another.

    Kitty, to her very materials benefit, spent the chief of her time together with her two elder sisters. In society so superior to what she had typically recognized, her enchancment was nice. She was not of so ungovernable a mood as Lydia; and, faraway from the affect of Lydia’s instance, she turned, by correct consideration and administration, much less irritable, much less ignorant, and fewer insipid. From the additional drawback of Lydia’s society she was in fact fastidiously saved, and although Mrs. Wickham incessantly invited her to come back and keep together with her, with the promise of balls and younger males, her father would by no means consent to her going.

    Mary was the one daughter who remained at dwelling; and he or she was essentially drawn from the pursuit of accomplishments by Mrs. Bennet’s being fairly unable to take a seat alone. Mary was obliged to combine extra with the world, however she might nonetheless moralize over each morning go to; and as she was now not mortified by comparisons between her sisters’ magnificence and her personal, it was suspected by her father that she submitted to the change with out a lot reluctance.

    As for Wickham and Lydia, their characters suffered no revolution from the wedding of her sisters. He bore with philosophy the conviction that Elizabeth should now turn out to be acquainted with no matter of his ingratitude and falsehood had earlier than been unknown to her; and despite each factor, was not wholly with out hope that Darcy may but be prevailed on to make his fortune. The congratulatory letter which Elizabeth acquired from Lydia on her marriage, defined to her that, by his spouse a minimum of, if not by himself, such a hope was cherished. The letter was to this impact:

    “MY DEAR LIZZY,

    “I want you pleasure. If you like Mr. Darcy half in addition to I do my expensive Wickham, you should be very completely happy. It is a good consolation to have you ever so wealthy, and when you don’t have anything else to do, I hope you’ll consider us. I’m certain Wickham would love a spot at court docket very a lot, and I don’t assume we will have fairly cash sufficient to reside upon with out some assist. Any place would do, of about three or 4 hundred a 12 months; however nevertheless, don’t converse to Mr. Darcy about it, in the event you had relatively not.

    “Yours, etc.”

    As it occurred that Elizabeth had a lot relatively not, she endeavoured in her reply to place an finish to each entreaty and expectation of the sort. Such reduction, nevertheless, because it was in her energy to afford, by the apply of what is perhaps referred to as financial system in her personal non-public expences, she incessantly despatched them. It had all the time been evident to her that such an revenue as theirs, below the course of two individuals so extravagant of their needs, and heedless of the long run, should be very inadequate to their assist; and every time they modified their quarters, both Jane or herself have been certain of being utilized to for some little help in the direction of discharging their payments. Their method of dwelling, even when the restoration of peace dismissed them to a house, was unsettled within the excessive. They have been all the time transferring from place to position in quest of an inexpensive state of affairs, and all the time spending greater than they ought. His affection for her quickly sunk into indifference; hers lasted a bit longer; and despite her youth and her manners, she retained all of the claims to fame which her marriage had given her.

    Though Darcy might by no means obtain him at Pemberley, but, for Elizabeth’s sake, he assisted him additional in his career. Lydia was often a customer there, when her husband was gone to get pleasure from himself in London or Bath; and with the Bingleys they each of them incessantly staid so lengthy, that even Bingley’s good humour was overcome, and he proceeded as far as to speak of giving them a touch to be gone.

    Miss Bingley was very deeply mortified by Darcy’s marriage; however as she thought it advisable to retain the best of visiting at Pemberley, she dropt all her resentment; was fonder than ever of Georgiana, virtually as attentive to Darcy as heretofore, and paid off each arrear of civility to Elizabeth.

    Pemberley was now Georgiana’s dwelling; and the attachment of the sisters was precisely what Darcy had hoped to see. They have been in a position to love one another even in addition to they supposed. Georgiana had the best opinion on the planet of Elizabeth; although at first she usually listened with an astonishment bordering on alarm at her full of life, sportive, method of speaking to her brother. He, who had all the time impressed in herself a respect which just about overcame her affection, she now noticed the thing of open pleasantry. Her thoughts acquired information which had by no means earlier than fallen in her means. By Elizabeth’s directions, she started to grasp {that a} lady could take liberties together with her husband which a brother won’t all the time enable in a sister greater than ten years youthful than himself.

    Lady Catherine was extraordinarily indignant on the wedding of her nephew; and as she gave option to all the real frankness of her character in her reply to the letter which introduced its association, she despatched him language so very abusive, particularly of Elizabeth, that for a while all intercourse was at an finish. But at size, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, he was prevailed on to miss the offence, and search a reconciliation; and, after a bit additional resistance on the a part of his aunt, her resentment gave means, both to her affection for him, or her curiosity to see how his spouse carried out herself; and he or she condescended to attend on them at Pemberley, despite that air pollution which its woods had acquired, not merely from the presence of such a mistress, however the visits of her uncle and aunt from the town.

    With the Gardiners, they have been all the time on probably the most intimate phrases. Darcy, in addition to Elizabeth, actually cherished them; they usually have been each ever wise of the warmest gratitude in the direction of the individuals who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the technique of uniting them.

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  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapters 41-50

    Chapter 41

    The first week of their return was quickly gone. The second started. It was the final of the regiment’s keep in Meryton, and all of the younger girls within the neighbourhood have been drooping apace. The dejection was virtually common. The elder Miss Bennets alone have been nonetheless capable of eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the same old course of their employments. Very steadily have been they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty and Lydia, whose personal distress was excessive, and who couldn’t comprehend such hard-heartedness in any of the household.

    “Good Heaven! what is to become of us? What are we to do?” would they typically exclaim within the bitterness of woe. “How can you be smiling so, Lizzy?”

    Their affectionate mom shared all their grief; she remembered what she had herself endured on an analogous event, five-and-twenty years in the past.

    “I am sure,” mentioned she, “I cried for two days together when Colonel Miller’s regiment went away. I thought I should have broken my heart.”

    “I am sure I shall break mine,” mentioned Lydia.

    “If one could but go to Brighton!” noticed Mrs. Bennet.

    “Oh, yes!—if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is so disagreeable.”

    “A little sea-bathing would set me up forever.”

    “And my aunt Phillips is sure it would do me a great deal of good,” added Kitty.

    Such have been the type of lamentations resounding perpetually via Longbourn House. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; however all sense of delight was misplaced in disgrace. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy’s objections; and by no means had she been a lot disposed to pardon his interference within the views of his good friend.

    But the gloom of Lydia’s prospect was shortly cleared away; for she obtained an invite from Mrs. Forster, the spouse of the colonel of the regiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable good friend was a really younger girl, and really these days married. A resemblance in good humour and good spirits had beneficial her and Lydia to one another, and out of their threemonths’ acquaintance they’d been intimate two.

    The rapture of Lydia on this event, her adoration of Mrs. Forster, the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcely to be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister’s emotions, Lydia flew about the home in stressed ecstasy, calling for everybody’s congratulations, and laughing and speaking with extra violence than ever; while the luckless Kitty continued within the parlour repined at her destiny in phrases as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.

    “I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask me as well as Lydia,” mentioned she, “Though I am not her particular friend. I have just as much right to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”

    In useless did Elizabeth try and make her cheap, and Jane to make her resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so removed from thrilling in her the identical emotions as in her mom and Lydia, that she thought of it because the dying warrant of all risk of widespread sense for the latter; and detestable as such a step should make her have been it identified, she couldn’t assist secretly advising her father to not let her go. She represented to him all of the improprieties of Lydia’s common behaviour, the little benefit she may derive from the friendship of such a lady as Mrs. Forster, and the chance of her being but extra imprudent with such a companion at Brighton, the place the temptations have to be higher than at residence. He heard her attentively, after which mentioned:

    “Lydia will never be easy until she has exposed herself in some public place or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so little expense or inconvenience to her family as under the present circumstances.”

    “If you were aware,” mentioned Elizabeth, “of the very great disadvantage to us all which must arise from the public notice of Lydia’s unguarded and imprudent manner—nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure you would judge differently in the affair.”

    “Already arisen?” repeated Mr. Bennet. “What, has she frightened away some of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Such squeamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of pitiful fellows who have been kept aloof by Lydia’s folly.”

    “Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is not of particular, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Our importance, our respectability in the world must be affected by the wild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which mark Lydia’s character. Excuse me, for I must speak plainly. If you, my dear father, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, and of teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business of her life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her character will be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirt that ever made herself or her family ridiculous; a flirt, too, in the worst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyond youth and a tolerable person; and, from the ignorance and emptiness of her mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universal contempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kitty also is comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrolled! Oh! my dear father, can you suppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised wherever they are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in the disgrace?”

    Mr. Bennet noticed that her complete coronary heart was within the topic, and affectionately taking her hand mentioned in reply:

    “Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to less advantage for having a couple of—or I may say, three—very silly sisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go to Brighton. Let her go, then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and will keep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be an object of prey to anybody. At Brighton she will be of less importance even as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will find women better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her being there may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot grow many degrees worse, without authorising us to lock her up for the rest of her life.”

    With this reply Elizabeth was compelled to be content material; however her personal opinion continued the identical, and he or she left him upset and sorry. It was not in her nature, nonetheless, to extend her vexations by dwelling on them. She was assured of getting carried out her responsibility, and to worry over unavoidable evils, or increase them by anxiousness, was no a part of her disposition.

    Had Lydia and her mom identified the substance of her convention together with her father, their indignation would hardly have discovered expression of their united volubility. In Lydia’s creativeness, a go to to Brighton comprised each risk of earthly happiness. She noticed, with the artistic eye of fancy, the streets of that homosexual bathing-place coated with officers. She noticed herself the thing of consideration, to tens and to scores of them at current unknown. She noticed all of the glories of the camp—its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of strains, crowded with the younger and the homosexual, and dazzling with scarlet; and, to finish the view, she noticed herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at the least six officers without delay.

    Had she identified her sister sought to tear her from such prospects and such realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They may have been understood solely by her mom, who might need felt almost the identical. Lydia’s going to Brighton was all that consoled her for her melancholy conviction of her husband’s by no means desiring to go there himself.

    But they have been completely unaware of what had handed; and their raptures continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia’s leaving residence.

    Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the final time. Having been steadily in firm with him since her return, agitation was fairly effectively over; the agitations of formal partiality completely so. She had even learnt to detect, within the very gentleness which had first delighted her, an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his current behaviour to herself, furthermore, she had a recent supply of displeasure, for the inclination he quickly testified of renewing these intentions which had marked the early a part of their acquaintance may solely serve, after what had since handed, to impress her. She misplaced all concern for him to find herself thus chosen as the thing of such idle and frivolous gallantry; and whereas she steadily repressed it, couldn’t however really feel the reproof contained in his believing, that nonetheless lengthy, and for no matter trigger, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vainness could be gratified, and her desire secured at any time by their renewal.

    On the final day of the regiment’s remaining at Meryton, he dined, with different of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabeth disposed to half from him in good humour, that on his making some inquiry as to the way wherein her time had handed at Hunsford, she talked about Colonel Fitzwilliam’s and Mr. Darcy’s having each spent three weeks at Rosings, and requested him, if he was acquainted with the previous.

    He regarded stunned, displeased, alarmed; however with a second’s recollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had previously seen him typically; and, after observing that he was a really gentlemanlike man, requested her how she had preferred him. Her reply was warmly in his favour. With an air of indifference he quickly afterwards added:

    “How long did you say he was at Rosings?”

    “Nearly three weeks.”

    “And you saw him frequently?”

    “Yes, almost every day.”

    “His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”

    “Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance.”

    “Indeed!” cried Mr. Wickham with a glance which didn’t escape her. “And pray, may I ask?—” But checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, “Is it in address that he improves? Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary style?—for I dare not hope,” he continued in a decrease and extra severe tone, “that he is improved in essentials.”

    “Oh, no!” mentioned Elizabeth. “In essentials, I believe, he is very much what he ever was.”

    While she spoke, Wickham regarded as if scarcely figuring out whether or not to rejoice over her phrases, or to mistrust their which means. There was a one thing in her countenance which made him pay attention with an apprehensive and anxious consideration, whereas she added:

    “When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but that, from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”

    Wickham’s alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated look; for a couple of minutes he was silent, until, shaking off his embarrassment, he turned to her once more, and mentioned within the gentlest of accents:

    “You, who so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy, will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the appearance of what is right. His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must only deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear that the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and judgement he stands much in awe. His fear of her has always operated, I know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he has very much at heart.”

    Elizabeth couldn’t repress a smile at this, however she answered solely by a slight inclination of the pinnacle. She noticed that he needed to interact her on the outdated topic of his grievances, and he or she was in no humour to indulge him. The remainder of the night handed with the look, on his facet, of common cheerfulness, however with no additional try to tell apart Elizabeth; they usually parted finally with mutual civility, and presumably a mutual need of by no means assembly once more.

    When the social gathering broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton, from whence they have been to set out early the following morning. The separation between her and her household was slightly noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the one one who shed tears; however she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs. Bennet was diffuse in her good needs for the felicity of her daughter, and spectacular in her injunctions that she mustn’t miss the chance of having fun with herself as a lot as doable—recommendation which there was each motive to consider could be effectively attended to; and within the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the extra light adieus of her sisters have been uttered with out being heard.

    Chapter 42

    Had Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her family, she couldn’t have shaped a really pleasing opinion of conjugal felicity or home consolation. Her father, captivated by youth and sweetness, and that look of fine humour which youth and sweetness usually give, had married a lady whose weak understanding and intolerant thoughts had very early of their marriage put an finish to all actual affection for her. Respect, esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of home happiness have been overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a disposition to hunt consolation for the frustration which his personal imprudence had introduced on, in any of these pleasures which too typically console the unlucky for his or her folly or their vice. He was keen on the nation and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal enjoyments. To his spouse he was little or no in any other case indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is just not the type of happiness which a person would normally want to owe to his spouse; however the place different powers of leisure are wanting, the true thinker will derive profit from comparable to are given.

    Elizabeth, nonetheless, had by no means been blind to the impropriety of her father’s behaviour as a husband. She had all the time seen it with ache; however respecting his talents, and grateful for his affectionate therapy of herself, she endeavoured to neglect what she couldn’t overlook, and to banish from her ideas that continuous breach of conjugal obligation and decorum which, in exposing his spouse to the contempt of her personal kids, was so extremely reprehensible. But she had by no means felt so strongly as now the disadvantages which should attend the youngsters of so unsuitable a wedding, nor ever been so absolutely conscious of the evils arising from so ill-judged a route of abilities; abilities, which, rightly used, would possibly at the least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even when incapable of enlarging the thoughts of his spouse.

    When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure she discovered little different trigger for satisfaction within the lack of the regiment. Their events overseas have been much less diversified than earlier than, and at residence she had a mom and sister whose fixed repinings on the dullness of all the things round them threw an actual gloom over their home circle; and, although Kitty would possibly in time regain her pure diploma of sense, because the disturbers of her mind have been eliminated, her different sister, from whose disposition higher evil is perhaps apprehended, was more likely to be hardened in all her folly and assurance by a state of affairs of such double hazard as a watering-place and a camp. Upon the entire, subsequently, she discovered, what has been generally discovered earlier than, that an occasion to which she had been trying with impatient need didn’t, in happening, deliver all of the satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently needed to call another interval for the graduation of precise felicity—to have another level on which her needs and hopes is perhaps mounted, and by once more having fun with the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the current, and put together for one more disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes was now the thing of her happiest ideas; it was her greatest comfort for all of the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mom and Kitty made inevitable; and will she have included Jane within the scheme, each a part of it will have been good.

    “But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for. Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain. But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of pleasure realised. A scheme of which every part promises delight can never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”

    When Lydia went away she promised to jot down fairly often and really minutely to her mom and Kitty; however her letters have been all the time lengthy anticipated, and all the time very quick. Those to her mom contained little else than that they have been simply returned from the library, the place such and such officers had attended them, and the place she had seen such stunning ornaments as made her fairly wild; that she had a brand new robe, or a brand new parasol, which she would have described extra absolutely, however was obliged to go away off in a violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster known as her, they usually have been going off to the camp; and from her correspondence together with her sister, there was nonetheless much less to be learnt—for her letters to Kitty, although slightly longer, have been a lot too filled with strains below the phrases to be made public.

    After the primary fortnight or three weeks of her absence, well being, good humour, and cheerfulness started to reappear at Longbourn. Everything wore a happier facet. The households who had been on the town for the winter got here again once more, and summer time finery and summer time engagements arose. Mrs. Bennet was restored to her common querulous serenity; and, by the center of June, Kitty was a lot recovered as to have the ability to enter Meryton with out tears; an occasion of such completely happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that by the next Christmas she is perhaps so tolerably cheap as to not point out an officer above as soon as a day, until, by some merciless and malicious association on the War Office, one other regiment ought to be quartered in Meryton.

    The time mounted for the start of their northern tour was now quick approaching, and a fortnight solely was wanting of it, when a letter arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which without delay delayed its graduation and curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner could be prevented by enterprise from setting out until a fortnight later in July, and have to be in London once more inside a month, and as that left too quick a interval for them to go thus far, and see a lot as they’d proposed, or at the least to see it with the leisure and luxury they’d constructed on, they have been obliged to surrender the Lakes, and substitute a extra contracted tour, and, in line with the current plan, have been to go no farther northwards than Derbyshire. In that county there was sufficient to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly sturdy attraction. The city the place she had previously handed some years of her life, and the place they have been now to spend just a few days, was in all probability as nice an object of her curiosity as all of the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, or the Peak.

    Elizabeth was excessively upset; she had set her coronary heart on seeing the Lakes, and nonetheless thought there might need been time sufficient. But it was her enterprise to be happy—and definitely her mood to be completely happy; and all was quickly proper once more.

    With the point out of Derbyshire there have been many concepts related. It was unimaginable for her to see the phrase with out pondering of Pemberley and its proprietor. “But surely,” mentioned she, “I may enter his county with impunity, and rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me.”

    The interval of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks have been to cross away earlier than her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did cross away, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, with their 4 kids, did at size seem at Longbourn. The kids, two women of six and eight years outdated, and two youthful boys, have been to be left below the actual care of their cousin Jane, who was the final favorite, and whose regular sense and sweetness of mood precisely tailored her for attending to them in each means—educating them, taking part in with them, and loving them.

    The Gardiners stayed just one night time at Longbourn, and set off the following morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One enjoyment was sure—that of suitableness of companions; a suitableness which comprehended well being and mood to bear inconveniences—cheerfulness to reinforce each pleasure—and affection and intelligence, which could provide it amongst themselves if there have been disappointments overseas.

    It is just not the thing of this work to present an outline of Derbyshire, nor of any of the outstanding locations via which their route thither lay; Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, and so forth. are sufficiently identified. A small a part of Derbyshire is all the current concern. To the little city of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s former residence, and the place she had these days discovered some acquaintance nonetheless remained, they bent their steps, after having seen all of the principal wonders of the nation; and inside 5 miles of Lambton, Elizabeth discovered from her aunt that Pemberley was located. It was not of their direct street, nor greater than a mile or two out of it. In speaking over their route the night earlier than, Mrs. Gardiner expressed an inclination to see the place once more. Mr. Gardiner declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was utilized to for her approbation.

    “My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so much?” mentioned her aunt; “a place, too, with which so many of your acquaintances are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know.”

    Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no enterprise at Pemberley, and was obliged to imagine a disinclination for seeing it. She should personal that she was bored with seeing nice homes; after going over so many, she actually had no pleasure in advantageous carpets or satin curtains.

    Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house richly furnished,” mentioned she, “I should not care about it myself; but the grounds are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country.”

    Elizabeth mentioned no extra—however her thoughts couldn’t acquiesce. The risk of assembly Mr. Darcy, whereas viewing the place, immediately occurred. It could be dreadful! She blushed on the very concept, and thought it will be higher to talk brazenly to her aunt than to run such a threat. But in opposition to this there have been objections; and he or she lastly resolved that it might be the final useful resource, if her personal inquiries to the absence of the household have been unfavourably answered.

    Accordingly, when she retired at night time, she requested the chambermaid whether or not Pemberley weren’t a really advantageous place? what was the title of its proprietor? and, with no little alarm, whether or not the household have been down for the summer time? A most welcome detrimental adopted the final query—and her alarms now being eliminated, she was at leisure to really feel quite a lot of curiosity to see the home herself; and when the topic was revived the following morning, and he or she was once more utilized to, may readily reply, and with a correct air of indifference, that she had not likely any dislike to the scheme. To Pemberley, subsequently, they have been to go.

    Chapter 43

    Elizabeth, as they drove alongside, watched for the primary look of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at size they turned in on the lodge, her spirits have been in a excessive flutter.

    The park was very massive, and contained nice number of floor. They entered it in one among its lowest factors, and drove for a while via a ravishing wooden stretching over a large extent.

    Elizabeth’s thoughts was too full for dialog, however she noticed and admired each outstanding spot and standpoint. They progressively ascended for half-a-mile, after which discovered themselves on the high of a substantial eminence, the place the wooden ceased, and the attention was immediately caught by Pemberley House, located on the alternative facet of a valley, into which the street with some abruptness wound. It was a big, good-looking stone constructing, standing effectively on rising floor, and backed by a ridge of excessive woody hills; and in entrance, a stream of some pure significance was swelled into higher, however with none synthetic look. Its banks have been neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had by no means seen a spot for which nature had completed extra, or the place pure magnificence had been so little counteracted by an ungainly style. They have been all of them heat of their admiration; and at that second she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley is perhaps one thing!

    They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, whereas inspecting the nearer facet of the home, all her apprehension of assembly its proprietor returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On making use of to see the place, they have been admitted into the corridor; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to surprise at her being the place she was.

    The housekeeper got here; a respectable-looking aged girl, a lot much less advantageous, and extra civil, than she had any notion of discovering her. They adopted her into the dining-parlour. It was a big, effectively proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after barely surveying it, went to a window to take pleasure in its prospect. The hill, topped with wooden, which they’d descended, receiving elevated abruptness from the gap, was a ravishing object. Every disposition of the bottom was good; and he or she regarded on the entire scene, the river, the bushes scattered on its banks and the winding of the valley, so far as she may hint it, with delight. As they handed into different rooms these objects have been taking totally different positions; however from each window there have been beauties to be seen. The rooms have been lofty and good-looking, and their furnishings appropriate to the fortune of its proprietor; however Elizabeth noticed, with admiration of his style, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly advantageous; with much less of splendour, and extra actual magnificence, than the furnishings of Rosings.

    “And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted! Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. But no,”—recollecting herself—”that could never be; my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me; I should not have been allowed to invite them.”

    This was a fortunate recollection—it saved her from one thing very like remorse.

    She longed to inquire of the housekeeper whether or not her grasp was actually absent, however had not the braveness for it. At size nonetheless, the query was requested by her uncle; and he or she turned away with alarm, whereas Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was, including, “But we expect him to-morrow, with a large party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their very own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!

    Her aunt now known as her to have a look at an image. She approached and noticed the likeness of Mr. Wickham, suspended, amongst a number of different miniatures, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt requested her, smilingly, how she preferred it. The housekeeper got here ahead, and instructed them it was an image of a younger gentleman, the son of her late grasp’s steward, who had been introduced up by him at his personal expense. “He is now gone into the army,” she added; “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”

    Mrs. Gardiner checked out her niece with a smile, however Elizabeth couldn’t return it.

    “And that,” mentioned Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to a different of the miniatures, “is my master—and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other—about eight years ago.”

    “I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” mentioned Mrs. Gardiner, trying on the image; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not.”

    Mrs. Reynolds respect for Elizabeth appeared to extend on this intimation of her figuring out her grasp.

    “Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”

    Elizabeth colored, and mentioned: “A little.”

    “And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma’am?”

    “Yes, very handsome.”

    “I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery up stairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them.”

    This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being amongst them.

    Mrs. Reynolds then directed their consideration to one among Miss Darcy, drawn when she was solely eight years outdated.

    “And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” mentioned Mrs. Gardiner.

    “Oh! yes—the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so accomplished!—She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her—a present from my master; she comes here to-morrow with him.”

    Mr. Gardiner, whose manners have been very straightforward and nice, inspired her communicativeness by his questions and remarks; Mrs. Reynolds, both by satisfaction or attachment, had evidently nice pleasure in speaking of her grasp and his sister.

    “Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”

    “Not so much as I could wish, sir; but I dare say he may spend half his time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”

    “Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”

    “If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”

    “Yes, sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him.”

    Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth couldn’t assist saying, “It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”

    “I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him,” replied the opposite. Elizabeth thought this was going fairly far; and he or she listened with rising astonishment because the housekeeper added, “I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”

    This was reward, of all others most extraordinary, most reverse to her concepts. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest consideration was woke up; she longed to listen to extra, and was grateful to her uncle for saying:

    “There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in having such a master.”

    “Yes, sir, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed, that they who are good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world.”

    Elizabeth virtually stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.

    “His father was an excellent man,” mentioned Mrs. Gardiner.

    “Yes, ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him—just as affable to the poor.”

    Elizabeth listened, questioned, doubted, and was impatient for extra. Mrs. Reynolds may curiosity her on no different level. She associated the topics of the photographs, the size of the rooms, and the worth of the furnishings, in useless. Mr. Gardiner, extremely amused by the type of household prejudice to which he attributed her extreme commendation of her grasp, quickly led once more to the topic; and he or she dwelt with power on his many deserves as they proceeded collectively up the nice staircase.

    “He is the best landlord, and the best master,” mentioned she, “that ever lived; not like the wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”

    “In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.

    “This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt as they walked, “is not quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”

    “Perhaps we might be deceived.”

    “That is not very likely; our authority was too good.”

    On reaching the spacious foyer above they have been proven into a really fairly sitting-room, these days fitted up with higher magnificence and lightness than the residences under; and have been knowledgeable that it was however simply completed to present pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room when final at Pemberley.

    “He is certainly a good brother,” mentioned Elizabeth, as she walked in direction of one of many home windows.

    Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight, when she ought to enter the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. “Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her.”

    The picture-gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, have been all that remained to be proven. In the previous have been many good work; however Elizabeth knew nothing of the artwork; and from comparable to had been already seen under, she had willingly turned to have a look at some drawings of Miss Darcy’s, in crayons, whose topics have been normally extra fascinating, and likewise extra intelligible.

    In the gallery there have been many household portraits, however they may have little to repair the eye of a stranger. Elizabeth walked in quest of the one face whose options could be identified to her. At final it arrested her—and he or she beheld a hanging resemblance to Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she remembered to have generally seen when he checked out her. She stood a number of minutes earlier than the image, in earnest contemplation, and returned to it once more earlier than they quitted the gallery. Mrs. Reynolds knowledgeable them that it had been taken in his father’s lifetime.

    There was definitely at this second, in Elizabeth’s thoughts, a extra light sensation in direction of the unique than she had ever felt on the peak of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What reward is extra invaluable than the reward of an clever servant? As a brother, a landlord, a grasp, she thought of how many individuals’s happiness have been in his guardianship!—how a lot of delight or ache was it in his energy to bestow!—how a lot of fine or evil have to be completed by him! Every concept that had been introduced ahead by the housekeeper was beneficial to his character, and as she stood earlier than the canvas on which he was represented, and glued his eyes upon herself, she considered his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised earlier than; she remembered its heat, and softened its impropriety of expression.

    When the entire home that was open to common inspection had been seen, they returned downstairs, and, taking depart of the housekeeper, have been consigned over to the gardener, who met them on the hall-door.

    As they walked throughout the corridor in direction of the river, Elizabeth turned again to look once more; her uncle and aunt stopped additionally, and whereas the previous was conjecturing as to the date of the constructing, the proprietor of it himself all of a sudden got here ahead from the street, which led behind it to the stables.

    They have been inside twenty yards of one another, and so abrupt was his look, that it was unimaginable to keep away from his sight. Their eyes immediately met, and the cheeks of each have been overspread with the deepest blush. He completely began, and for a second appeared immovable from shock; however shortly recovering himself, superior in direction of the social gathering, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not by way of good composure, at the least of good civility.

    She had instinctively turned away; however stopping on his strategy, obtained his compliments with a humiliation unimaginable to be overcome. Had his first look, or his resemblance to the image they’d simply been inspecting, been inadequate to guarantee the opposite two that they now noticed Mr. Darcy, the gardener’s expression of shock, on beholding his grasp, should instantly have instructed it. They stood somewhat aloof whereas he was speaking to their niece, who, astonished and confused, scarcely dared elevate her eyes to his face, and knew not what reply she returned to his civil inquiries after her household. Amazed on the alteration of his method since they final parted, each sentence that he uttered was rising her embarrassment; and each concept of the impropriety of her being discovered there recurring to her thoughts, the jiffy wherein they continued have been among the most uncomfortable in her life. Nor did he appear far more comfy; when he spoke, his accent had none of its common sedateness; and he repeated his inquiries as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her having stayed in Derbyshire, so typically, and in so hurried a means, as plainly spoke the distraction of his ideas.

    At size each concept appeared to fail him; and, after standing just a few moments with out saying a phrase, he all of a sudden recollected himself, and took depart.

    The others then joined her, and expressed admiration of his determine; however Elizabeth heard not a phrase, and wholly engrossed by her personal emotions, adopted them in silence. She was overpowered by disgrace and vexation. Her coming there was essentially the most unlucky, essentially the most ill-judged factor on the planet! How unusual it should seem to him! In what a disgraceful gentle would possibly it not strike so useless a person! It may appear as if she had purposely thrown herself in his means once more! Oh! why did she come? Or, why did he thus come a day earlier than he was anticipated? Had they been solely ten minutes sooner, they need to have been past the attain of his discrimination; for it was plain that he was that second arrived—that second alighted from his horse or his carriage. She blushed repeatedly over the perverseness of the assembly. And his behaviour, so strikingly altered—what may it imply? That he ought to even communicate to her was superb!—however to talk with such civility, to inquire after her household! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, by no means had he spoken with such gentleness as on this surprising assembly. What a distinction did it provide to his final tackle in Rosings Park, when he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to assume, or account for it.

    They had now entered a ravishing stroll by the facet of the water, and each step was bringing ahead a nobler fall of floor, or a finer attain of the woods to which they have been approaching; however it was a while earlier than Elizabeth was wise of any of it; and, although she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and appeared to direct her eyes to such objects as they identified, she distinguished no a part of the scene. Her ideas have been all mounted on that one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it is perhaps, the place Mr. Darcy then was. She longed to know what in the intervening time was passing in his thoughts—in what method he considered her, and whether or not, in defiance of all the things, she was nonetheless pricey to him. Perhaps he had been civil solely as a result of he felt himself comfy; but there had been that in his voice which was not like ease. Whether he had felt extra of ache or of delight in seeing her she couldn’t inform, however he definitely had not seen her with composure.

    At size, nonetheless, the remarks of her companions on her absence of thoughts aroused her, and he or she felt the need of showing extra like herself.

    They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for some time, ascended among the greater grounds; when, in spots the place the opening of the bushes gave the attention energy to wander, have been many charming views of the valley, the alternative hills, with the lengthy vary of woods overspreading many, and infrequently a part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner expressed a want of going spherical the entire park, however feared it is perhaps past a stroll. With a triumphant smile they have been instructed that it was ten miles spherical. It settled the matter; they usually pursued the accustomed circuit; which introduced them once more, after a while, in a descent amongst hanging woods, to the sting of the water, and one among its narrowest components. They crossed it by a easy bridge, in character with the final air of the scene; it was a spot much less adorned than any they’d but visited; and the valley, right here contracted right into a glen, allowed room just for the stream, and a slim stroll amidst the tough coppice-wood which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to discover its windings; however after they had crossed the bridge, and perceived their distance from the home, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a fantastic walker, may go no farther, and thought solely of returning to the carriage as shortly as doable. Her niece was, subsequently, obliged to submit, they usually took their means in direction of the home on the alternative facet of the river, within the nearest route; however their progress was gradual, for Mr. Gardiner, although seldom capable of indulge the style, was very keen on fishing, and was a lot engaged in watching the occasional look of some trout within the water, and speaking to the person about them, that he superior however little. Whilst wandering on on this gradual method, they have been once more stunned, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was fairly equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no nice distance. The stroll right here being right here much less sheltered than on the opposite facet, allowed them to see him earlier than they met. Elizabeth, nonetheless astonished, was at the least extra ready for an interview than earlier than, and resolved to look and to talk with calmness, if he actually meant to fulfill them. For just a few moments, certainly, she felt that he would in all probability strike into another path. The concept lasted whereas a turning within the stroll hid him from their view; the turning previous, he was instantly earlier than them. With a look, she noticed that he had misplaced none of his latest civility; and, to mimic his politeness, she started, as they met, to admire the great thing about the place; however she had not obtained past the phrases “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unfortunate recollections obtruded, and he or she fancied that reward of Pemberley from her is perhaps mischievously construed. Her color modified, and he or she mentioned no extra.

    Mrs. Gardiner was standing somewhat behind; and on her pausing, he requested her if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her associates. This was a stroke of civility for which she was fairly unprepared; and he or she may hardly suppress a smile at his being now searching for the acquaintance of a few of these very individuals in opposition to whom his satisfaction had revolted in his provide to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought she, “when he knows who they are? He takes them now for people of fashion.”

    The introduction, nonetheless, was instantly made; and as she named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly take a look at him, to see how he bore it, and was not with out the expectation of his decamping as quick as he may from such disgraceful companions. That he was stunned by the connection was evident; he sustained it, nonetheless, with fortitude, and so removed from going away, turned again with them, and entered into dialog with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth couldn’t however be happy, couldn’t however triumph. It was consoling that he ought to know she had some relations for whom there was no have to blush. She listened most attentively to all that handed between them, and gloried in each expression, each sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his style, or his good manners.

    The dialog quickly turned upon fishing; and he or she heard Mr. Darcy invite him, with the best civility, to fish there as typically as he selected whereas he continued within the neighbourhood, providing on the similar time to provide him with fishing sort out, and stating these components of the stream the place there was normally most sport. Mrs. Gardiner, who was strolling arm-in-arm with Elizabeth, gave her a glance expressive of surprise. Elizabeth mentioned nothing, however it gratified her exceedingly; the praise have to be all for herself. Her astonishment, nonetheless, was excessive, and frequently was she repeating, “Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me—it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me.”

    After strolling a while on this means, the 2 girls in entrance, the 2 gents behind, on resuming their locations, after descending to the brink of the river for the higher inspection of some curious water-plant, there chanced to be somewhat alteration. It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the train of the morning, discovered Elizabeth’s arm insufficient to her assist, and consequently most well-liked her husband’s. Mr. Darcy took her place by her niece, they usually walked on collectively. After a brief silence, the girl first spoke. She wished him to know that she had been assured of his absence earlier than she got here to the place, and accordingly started by observing, that his arrival had been very surprising—”for your housekeeper,” she added, “informed us that you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and indeed, before we left Bakewell, we understood that you were not immediately expected in the country.” He acknowledged the reality of all of it, and mentioned that enterprise along with his steward had occasioned his coming ahead just a few hours earlier than the remainder of the social gathering with whom he had been travelling. “They will join me early to-morrow,” he continued, “and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you—Mr. Bingley and his sisters.”

    Elizabeth answered solely by a slight bow. Her ideas have been immediately pushed again to the time when Mr. Bingley’s title had been the final talked about between them; and, if she would possibly choose by his complexion, his thoughts was not very otherwise engaged.

    “There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?”

    The shock of such an software was nice certainly; it was too nice for her to know in what method she acceded to it. She instantly felt that no matter need Miss Darcy might need of being acquainted together with her have to be the work of her brother, and, with out trying farther, it was passable; it was gratifying to know that his resentment had not made him assume actually sick of her.

    They now walked on in silence, every of them deep in thought. Elizabeth was not snug; that was unimaginable; however she was flattered and happy. His want of introducing his sister to her was a praise of the best sort. They quickly outstripped the others, and after they had reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner have been half 1 / 4 of a mile behind.

    He then requested her to stroll into the home—however she declared herself not drained, they usually stood collectively on the garden. At such a time a lot might need been mentioned, and silence was very awkward. She needed to speak, however there gave the impression to be an embargo on each topic. At final she recollected that she had been travelling, they usually talked of Matlock and Dove Dale with nice perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly—and her persistence and her concepts have been almost worn out earlier than the tete-a-tete was over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s developing they have been all pressed to enter the home and take some refreshment; however this was declined, they usually parted on all sides with utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the women into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth noticed him strolling slowly in direction of the home.

    The observations of her uncle and aunt now started; and every of them pronounced him to be infinitely superior to something they’d anticipated. “He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming,” mentioned her uncle.

    “There is something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her aunt, “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, I have seen nothing of it.”

    “I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”

    “To be sure, Lizzy,” mentioned her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham; or, rather, he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are perfectly good. But how came you to tell me that he was so disagreeable?”

    Elizabeth excused herself in addition to she may; mentioned that she had preferred him higher after they had met in Kent than earlier than, and that she had by no means seen him so nice as this morning.

    “But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him at his word, as he might change his mind another day, and warn me off his grounds.”

    Elizabeth felt that they’d completely misunderstood his character, however mentioned nothing.

    “From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, there is something pleasing about his mouth when he speaks. And there is something of dignity in his countenance that would not give one an unfavourable idea of his heart. But, to be sure, the good lady who showed us his house did give him a most flaming character! I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal master, I suppose, and that in the eye of a servant comprehends every virtue.”

    Elizabeth right here felt herself known as on to say one thing in vindication of his behaviour to Wickham; and subsequently gave them to grasp, in as guarded a way as she may, that by what she had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions have been able to a really totally different development; and that his character was certainly not so defective, nor Wickham’s so amiable, as they’d been thought of in Hertfordshire. In affirmation of this, she associated the particulars of all of the pecuniary transactions wherein they’d been related, with out really naming her authority, however stating it to be comparable to is perhaps relied on.

    Mrs. Gardiner was stunned and anxious; however as they have been now approaching the scene of her former pleasures, each concept gave method to the appeal of recollection; and he or she was an excessive amount of engaged in stating to her husband all of the fascinating spots in its environs to consider the rest. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s stroll they’d no sooner dined than she set off once more in quest of her former acquaintance, and the night was spent within the satisfactions of a intercourse renewed after a few years’ discontinuance.

    The occurrences of the day have been too filled with curiosity to go away Elizabeth a lot consideration for any of those new associates; and he or she may do nothing however assume, and assume with surprise, of Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above all, of his wishing her to be acquainted along with his sister.

    Chapter 44

    Elizabeth had settled it that Mr. Darcy would deliver his sister to go to her the very day after her reaching Pemberley; and was consequently resolved to not be out of sight of the inn the entire of that morning. But her conclusion was false; for on the very morning after their arrival at Lambton, these guests got here. They had been strolling in regards to the place with a few of their new associates, and have been simply returning to the inn to decorate themselves for eating with the identical household, when the sound of a carriage drew them to a window, they usually noticed a gentleman and a woman in a curricle driving up the road. Elizabeth instantly recognizing the livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small diploma of her shock to her relations by acquainting them with the honour which she anticipated. Her uncle and aunt have been all amazement; and the embarrassment of her method as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and most of the circumstances of the previous day, opened to them a brand new concept on the enterprise. Nothing had ever advised it earlier than, however they felt that there was no different means of accounting for such attentions from such 1 / 4 than by supposing a partiality for his or her niece. While these newly-born notions have been passing of their heads, the perturbation of Elizabeth’s emotions was at each second rising. She was fairly amazed at her personal discomposure; however amongst different causes of disquiet, she dreaded lest the fondness of the brother ought to have mentioned an excessive amount of in her favour; and, greater than generally anxious to please, she naturally suspected that each energy of pleasing would fail her.

    She retreated from the window, terrified of being seen; and as she walked up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, noticed such seems of inquiring shock in her uncle and aunt as made all the things worse.

    Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction befell. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at the least as a lot embarrassed as herself. Since her being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; however the remark of a only a few minutes satisfied her that she was solely exceedingly shy. She discovered it troublesome to acquire even a phrase from her past a monosyllable.

    Miss Darcy was tall, and on a bigger scale than Elizabeth; and, although little greater than sixteen, her determine was shaped, and her look womanly and sleek. She was much less good-looking than her brother; however there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners have been completely unassuming and mild. Elizabeth, who had anticipated to search out in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, was a lot relieved by discerning such totally different emotions.

    They had not lengthy been collectively earlier than Mr. Darcy instructed her that Bingley was additionally coming to attend on her; and he or she had barely time to precise her satisfaction, and put together for such a customer, when Bingley’s fast step was heard on the steps, and in a second he entered the room. All Elizabeth’s anger in opposition to him had been lengthy completed away; however had she nonetheless felt any, it may hardly have stood its floor in opposition to the unaffected cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her once more. He inquired in a pleasant, although common means, after her household, and regarded and spoke with the identical good-humoured ease that he had ever completed.

    To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a much less fascinating personage than to herself. They had lengthy wished to see him. The complete social gathering earlier than them, certainly, excited a vigorous consideration. The suspicions which had simply arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece directed their remark in direction of every with an earnest although guarded inquiry; they usually quickly drew from these inquiries the complete conviction that one among them at the least knew what it was to like. Of the girl’s sensations they remained somewhat unsure; however that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration was evident sufficient.

    Elizabeth, on her facet, had a lot to do. She needed to determine the emotions of every of her guests; she needed to compose her personal, and to make herself agreeable to all; and within the latter object, the place she feared most to fail, she was most positive of success, for these to whom she endeavoured to present pleasure have been prepossessed in her favour. Bingley was prepared, Georgiana was keen, and Darcy decided, to be happy.

    In seeing Bingley, her ideas naturally flew to her sister; and, oh! how ardently did she lengthy to know whether or not any of his have been directed in a like method. Sometimes she may fancy that he talked lower than on former events, and a few times happy herself with the notion that, as he checked out her, he was attempting to hint a resemblance. But, although this is perhaps imaginary, she couldn’t be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been arrange as a rival to Jane. No look appeared on both facet that spoke explicit regard. Nothing occurred between them that would justify the hopes of his sister. On this level she was quickly happy; and two or three little circumstances occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, and a want of claiming extra which may result in the point out of her, had he dared. He noticed to her, at a second when the others have been speaking collectively, and in a tone which had one thing of actual remorse, that it “was a very long time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, earlier than she may reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”

    Elizabeth was happy to search out his reminiscence so actual; and he afterwards took event to ask her, when unattended to by any of the remaining, whether or not all her sisters have been at Longbourn. There was not a lot within the query, nor within the previous comment; however there was a glance and a way which gave them which means.

    It was not typically that she may flip her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; however, each time she did catch a glimpse, she noticed an expression of common complaisance, and in all that he mentioned she heard an accent so faraway from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as satisfied her that the advance of manners which she had yesterday witnessed nonetheless non permanent its existence would possibly show, had at the least outlived sooner or later. When she noticed him thus searching for the acquaintance and courting the nice opinion of individuals with whom any intercourse just a few months in the past would have been a shame—when she noticed him thus civil, not solely to herself, however to the very relations whom he had brazenly disdained, and recollected their final vigorous scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the distinction, the change was so nice, and struck so forcibly on her thoughts, that she may hardly restrain her astonishment from being seen. Never, even within the firm of his pricey associates at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so wanting to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no significance may outcome from the success of his endeavours, and when even the acquaintance of these to whom his attentions have been addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of the women each of Netherfield and Rosings.

    Their guests stayed with them above half-an-hour; and after they arose to depart, Mr. Darcy known as on his sister to hitch him in expressing their want of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, earlier than they left the nation. Miss Darcy, although with a diffidence which marked her little within the behavior of giving invites, readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner checked out her niece, desirous of figuring out how she, whom the invitation most involved, felt disposed as to its acceptance, however Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming nonetheless, that this studied avoidance spoke slightly a momentary embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was keen on society, an ideal willingness to just accept it, she ventured to interact for her attendance, and the day after the following was mounted on.

    Bingley expressed nice pleasure within the certainty of seeing Elizabeth once more, having nonetheless a fantastic deal to say to her, and plenty of inquiries to make in any case their Hertfordshire associates. Elizabeth, construing all this right into a want of listening to her communicate of her sister, was happy, and on this account, in addition to some others, discovered herself, when their guests left them, able to contemplating the final half-hour with some satisfaction, although whereas it was passing, the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to be alone, and terrified of inquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she stayed with them solely lengthy sufficient to listen to their beneficial opinion of Bingley, after which hurried away to decorate.

    But she had no motive to concern Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was not their want to drive her communication. It was evident that she was significantly better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they’d earlier than any concept of; it was evident that he was very a lot in love together with her. They noticed a lot to curiosity, however nothing to justify inquiry.

    Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of tension to assume effectively; and, so far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to search out. They couldn’t be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn his character from their very own emotions and his servant’s report, with none reference to another account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was identified wouldn’t have acknowledged it for Mr. Darcy. There was now an curiosity, nonetheless, in believing the housekeeper; they usually quickly turned wise that the authority of a servant who had identified him since he was 4 years outdated, and whose personal manners indicated respectability, was to not be rapidly rejected. Neither had something occurred within the intelligence of their Lambton associates that would materially reduce its weight. They had nothing to accuse him of however satisfaction; satisfaction he in all probability had, and if not, it will definitely be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market-town the place the household didn’t go to. It was acknowledged, nonetheless, that he was a liberal man, and did a lot good among the many poor.

    With respect to Wickham, the travellers quickly discovered that he was not held there in a lot estimation; for although the chief of his considerations with the son of his patron have been imperfectly understood, it was but a well known incontrovertible fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many money owed behind him, which Mr. Darcy afterwards discharged.

    As for Elizabeth, her ideas have been at Pemberley this night greater than the final; and the night, although because it handed it appeared lengthy, was not lengthy sufficient to find out her emotions in direction of one in that mansion; and he or she lay awake two complete hours endeavouring to make them out. She definitely didn’t hate him. No; hatred had vanished way back, and he or she had virtually as lengthy been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike in opposition to him, that might be so known as. The respect created by the conviction of his invaluable qualities, although at first unwillingly admitted, had for a while ceased to be repugnant to her feeling; and it was now heightened into considerably of a friendlier nature, by the testimony so extremely in his favour, and bringing ahead his disposition in so amiable a light-weight, which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive inside her of goodwill which couldn’t be neglected. It was gratitude; gratitude, not merely for having as soon as cherished her, however for loving her nonetheless effectively sufficient to forgive all of the petulance and acrimony of her method in rejecting him, and all of the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would keep away from her as his biggest enemy, appeared, on this unintended assembly, most wanting to protect the acquaintance, and with none indelicate show of regard, or any peculiarity of method, the place their two selves solely have been involved, was soliciting the nice opinion of her associates, and bent on making her identified to his sister. Such a change in a person of a lot satisfaction thrilling not solely astonishment however gratitude—for to like, ardent love, it have to be attributed; and as such its impression on her was of a kind to be inspired, as certainly not unpleasing, although it couldn’t be precisely outlined. She revered, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt an actual curiosity in his welfare; and he or she solely needed to know the way far she wished that welfare to rely upon herself, and the way far it will be for the happiness of each that she ought to make use of the facility, which her fancy instructed her she nonetheless possessed, of bringing on her the renewal of his addresses.

    It had been settled within the night between the aunt and the niece, that such a hanging civility as Miss Darcy’s in coming to see them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she had reached it solely to a late breakfast, must be imitated, although it couldn’t be equalled, by some exertion of politeness on their facet; and, consequently, that it will be extremely expedient to attend on her at Pemberley the next morning. They have been, subsequently, to go. Elizabeth was happy; although when she requested herself the rationale, she had little or no to say in reply.

    Mr. Gardiner left them quickly after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been renewed the day earlier than, and a optimistic engagement manufactured from his assembly among the gents at Pemberley earlier than midday.

    Chapter 45

    Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had originated in jealousy, she couldn’t assist feeling how unwelcome her look at Pemberley have to be to her, and was curious to know with how a lot civility on that woman’s facet the acquaintance would now be renewed.

    On reaching the home, they have been proven via the corridor into the saloon, whose northern facet rendered it pleasant for summer time. Its home windows opening to the bottom, admitted a most refreshing view of the excessive woody hills behind the home, and of the gorgeous oaks and Spanish chestnuts which have been scattered over the intermediate garden.

    In this home they have been obtained by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the girl with whom she lived in London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, however attended with all of the embarrassment which, although continuing from shyness and the concern of doing incorrect, would simply give to those that felt themselves inferior the assumption of her being proud and reserved. Mrs. Gardiner and her niece, nonetheless, did her justice, and pitied her.

    By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they have been seen solely by a curtsey; and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses should all the time be, succeeded for just a few moments. It was first damaged by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agreeable-looking girl, whose endeavour to introduce some type of discourse proved her to be extra really well-bred than both of the others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional assist from Elizabeth, the dialog was carried on. Miss Darcy regarded as if she wished for braveness sufficient to hitch in it; and generally did enterprise a brief sentence when there was least hazard of its being heard.

    Elizabeth quickly noticed that she was herself intently watched by Miss Bingley, and that she couldn’t communicate a phrase, particularly to Miss Darcy, with out calling her consideration. This remark wouldn’t have prevented her from attempting to speak to the latter, had they not been seated at an inconvenient distance; however she was not sorry to be spared the need of claiming a lot. Her personal ideas have been using her. She anticipated each second that among the gents would enter the room. She wished, she feared that the grasp of the home is perhaps amongst them; and whether or not she wished or feared it most, she may scarcely decide. After sitting on this method 1 / 4 of an hour with out listening to Miss Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a chilly inquiry after the well being of her household. She answered with equal indifference and brevity, and the opposite mentioned no extra.

    The subsequent variation which their go to afforded was produced by the doorway of servants with chilly meat, cake, and a wide range of all of the best fruits in season; however this didn’t happen until after many a major look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of her submit. There was now employment for the entire social gathering—for although they may not all speak, they may all eat; and the gorgeous pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches quickly collected them around the desk.

    While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a good alternative of deciding whether or not she most feared or wished for the looks of Mr. Darcy, by the emotions which prevailed on his coming into the room; after which, although however a second earlier than she had believed her needs to predominate, she started to remorse that he got here.

    He had been a while with Mr. Gardiner, who, with two or three different gents from the home, was engaged by the river, and had left him solely on studying that the women of the household meant a go to to Georgiana that morning. No sooner did he seem than Elizabeth properly resolved to be completely straightforward and unembarrassed; a decision the extra essential to be made, however maybe not the extra simply stored, as a result of she noticed that the suspicions of the entire social gathering have been woke up in opposition to them, and that there was scarcely an eye fixed which didn’t watch his behaviour when he first got here into the room. In no countenance was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, regardless of the grins which overspread her face each time she spoke to one among its objects; for jealousy had not but made her determined, and her attentions to Mr. Darcy have been certainly not over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s entrance, exerted herself far more to speak, and Elizabeth noticed that he was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as a lot as doable, each try at dialog on both facet. Miss Bingley noticed all this likewise; and, within the imprudence of anger, took the primary alternative of claiming, with sneering civility:

    “Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the ——shire Militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family.”

    In Darcy’s presence she dared not point out Wickham’s title; however Elizabeth immediately comprehended that he was uppermost in her ideas; and the varied recollections related with him gave her a second’s misery; however exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured assault, she presently answered the query in a tolerably indifferent tone. While she spoke, an involuntary look confirmed her Darcy, with a heightened complexion, earnestly taking a look at her, and his sister overcome with confusion, and unable to elevate up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley identified what ache she was then giving her beloved good friend, she undoubtedly would have avoided the trace; however she had merely meant to discompose Elizabeth by bringing ahead the thought of a person to whom she believed her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which could injure her in Darcy’s opinion, and, maybe, to remind the latter of all of the follies and absurdities by which some a part of her household have been related with that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, the place secrecy was doable, besides to Elizabeth; and from all Bingley’s connections her brother was significantly anxious to hide it, from the very want which Elizabeth had way back attributed to him, of their changing into hereafter her personal. He had definitely shaped such a plan, and with out which means that it ought to have an effect on his endeavour to separate him from Miss Bennet, it’s possible that it would add one thing to his vigorous concern for the welfare of his good friend.

    Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, nonetheless, quickly quieted his emotion; and as Miss Bingley, vexed and upset, dared not strategy nearer to Wickham, Georgiana additionally recovered in time, although not sufficient to have the ability to communicate any extra. Her brother, whose eye she feared to fulfill, scarcely recollected her curiosity within the affair, and the very circumstance which had been designed to show his ideas from Elizabeth appeared to have mounted them on her increasingly more cheerfully.

    Their go to didn’t proceed lengthy after the query and reply above talked about; and whereas Mr. Darcy was attending them to their carriage Miss Bingley was venting her emotions in criticisms on Elizabeth’s particular person, behaviour, and gown. But Georgiana wouldn’t be part of her. Her brother’s advice was sufficient to make sure her favour; his judgement couldn’t err. And he had spoken in such phrases of Elizabeth as to go away Georgiana with out the facility of discovering her in any other case than pretty and amiable. When Darcy returned to the saloon, Miss Bingley couldn’t assist repeating to him some a part of what she had been saying to his sister.

    “How very ill Miss Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy,” she cried; “I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again.”

    However little Mr. Darcy might need preferred such an tackle, he contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no different alteration than her being slightly tanned, no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summertime.

    “For my own part,” she rejoined, “I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character—there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I could never see anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether there is a self-sufficiency without fashion, which is intolerable.”

    Persuaded as Miss Bingley was that Darcy admired Elizabeth, this was not the very best methodology of recommending herself; however offended persons are not all the time sensible; and in seeing him finally look considerably nettled, she had all of the success she anticipated. He was resolutely silent, nonetheless, and, from a dedication of constructing him communicate, she continued:

    “I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, ‘She a beauty!—I should as soon call her mother a wit.’ But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time.”

    “Yes,” replied Darcy, who may comprise himself not, “but that was only when I first saw her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.”

    He then went away, and Miss Bingley was left to all of the satisfaction of getting compelled him to say what gave nobody any ache however herself.

    Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth talked of all that had occurred throughout their go to, as they returned, besides what had significantly them each. The look and behavior of everyone they’d seen have been mentioned, besides of the one who had largely engaged their consideration. They talked of his sister, his associates, his home, his fruit—of all the things however himself; but Elizabeth was longing to know what Mrs. Gardiner considered him, and Mrs. Gardiner would have been extremely gratified by her niece’s starting the topic.

    Chapter 46

    Elizabeth had been deal upset in not discovering a letter from Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been renewed on every of the mornings that had now been spent there; however on the third her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the receipt of two letters from her without delay, on one among which was marked that it had been missent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not stunned at it, as Jane had written the route remarkably sick.

    They had simply been getting ready to stroll because the letters got here in; and her uncle and aunt, leaving her to take pleasure in them in quiet, set off by themselves. The one missent should first be attended to; it had been written 5 days in the past. The starting contained an account of all their little events and engagements, with such information because the nation afforded; however the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave extra necessary intelligence. It was to this impact:

    “Since writing the above, dearest Lizzy, something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature; but I am afraid of alarming you—be assured that we are all well. What I have to say relates to poor Lydia. An express came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that she was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to own the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. To Kitty, however, it does not seem so wholly unexpected. I am very, very sorry. So imprudent a match on both sides! But I am willing to hope the best, and that his character has been misunderstood. Thoughtless and indiscreet I can easily believe him, but this step (and let us rejoice over it) marks nothing bad at heart. His choice is disinterested at least, for he must know my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. How thankful am I that we never let them know what has been said against him; we must forget it ourselves. They were off Saturday night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written.”

    Without permitting herself time for consideration, and scarcely figuring out what she felt, Elizabeth on ending this letter immediately seized the opposite, and opening it with the utmost impatience, learn as follows: it had been written a day later than the conclusion of the primary.

    “By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. Imprudent as the marriage between Mr. Wickham and our poor Lydia would be, we are now anxious to be assured it has taken place, for there is but too much reason to fear they are not gone to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, having left Brighton the day before, not many hours after the express. Though Lydia’s short letter to Mrs. F. gave them to understand that they were going to Gretna Green, something was dropped by Denny expressing his belief that W. never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all, which was repeated to Colonel F., who, instantly taking the alarm, set off from B. intending to trace their route. He did trace them easily to Clapham, but no further; for on entering that place, they removed into a hackney coach, and dismissed the chaise that brought them from Epsom. All that is known after this is, that they were seen to continue the London road. I know not what to think. After making every possible inquiry on that side London, Colonel F. came on into Hertfordshire, anxiously renewing them at all the turnpikes, and at the inns in Barnet and Hatfield, but without any success—no such people had been seen to pass through. With the kindest concern he came on to Longbourn, and broke his apprehensions to us in a manner most creditable to his heart. I am sincerely grieved for him and Mrs. F., but no one can throw any blame on them. Our distress, my dear Lizzy, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Many circumstances might make it more eligible for them to be married privately in town than to pursue their first plan; and even if he could form such a design against a young woman of Lydia’s connections, which is not likely, can I suppose her so lost to everything? Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel F. is not disposed to depend upon their marriage; he shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said he feared W. was not a man to be trusted. My poor mother is really ill, and keeps her room. Could she exert herself, it would be better; but this is not to be expected. And as to my father, I never in my life saw him so affected. Poor Kitty has anger for having concealed their attachment; but as it was a matter of confidence, one cannot wonder. I am truly glad, dearest Lizzy, that you have been spared something of these distressing scenes; but now, as the first shock is over, shall I own that I long for your return? I am not so selfish, however, as to press for it, if inconvenient. Adieu! I take up my pen again to do what I have just told you I would not; but circumstances are such that I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt so well, that I am not afraid of requesting it, though I have still something more to ask of the former. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly, to try to discover her. What he means to do I am sure I know not; but his excessive distress will not allow him to pursue any measure in the best and safest way, and Colonel Forster is obliged to be at Brighton again to-morrow evening. In such an exigence, my uncle’s advice and assistance would be everything in the world; he will immediately comprehend what I must feel, and I rely upon his goodness.”

    “Oh! where, where is my uncle?” cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat as she completed the letter, in eagerness to observe him, with out shedding a second of the time so valuable; however as she reached the door it was opened by a servant, and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and impetuous method made him begin, and earlier than he may get well himself to talk, she, in whose thoughts each concept was outmoded by Lydia’s state of affairs, rapidly exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not an instant to lose.”

    “Good God! what is the matter?” cried he, with extra feeling than politeness; then recollecting himself, “I will not detain you a minute; but let me, or let the servant go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. You are not well enough; you cannot go yourself.”

    Elizabeth hesitated, however her knees trembled below her and he or she felt how little could be gained by her making an attempt to pursue them. Calling again the servant, subsequently, she commissioned him, although in so breathless an accent as made her virtually unintelligible, to fetch his grasp and mistress residence immediately.

    On his quitting the room she sat down, unable to assist herself, and looking out so miserably sick, that it was unimaginable for Darcy to go away her, or to chorus from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, “Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take to give you present relief? A glass of wine; shall I get you one? You are very ill.”

    “No, I thank you,” she replied, endeavouring to get well herself. “There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well; I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn.”

    She burst into tears as she alluded to it, and for a couple of minutes couldn’t communicate one other phrase. Darcy, in wretched suspense, may solely say one thing indistinctly of his concern, and observe her in compassionate silence. At size she spoke once more. “I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from anyone. My younger sister has left all her friends—has eloped; has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr. Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to—she is lost for ever.”

    Darcy was mounted in astonishment. “When I consider,” she added in a but extra agitated voice, “that I might have prevented it! I, who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only—some part of what I learnt, to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all—all too late now.”

    “I am grieved indeed,” cried Darcy; “grieved—shocked. But is it certain—absolutely certain?”

    “Oh, yes! They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland.”

    “And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?”

    “My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle’s immediate assistance; and we shall be off, I hope, in half-an-hour. But nothing can be done—I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”

    Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence.

    “When my eyes were opened to his real character—Oh! had I known what I ought, what I dared to do! But I knew not—I was afraid of doing too much. Wretched, wretched mistake!”

    Darcy made no reply. He appeared scarcely to listen to her, and was strolling up and down the room in earnest meditation, his forehead contracted, his air gloomy. Elizabeth quickly noticed, and immediately understood it. Her energy was sinking; all the things should sink below such a proof of household weak spot, such an assurance of the deepest shame. She may neither surprise nor condemn, however the perception of his self-conquest introduced nothing consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her misery. It was, quite the opposite, precisely calculated to make her perceive her personal needs; and by no means had she so actually felt that she may have cherished him, as now, when all love have to be useless.

    But self, although it will intrude, couldn’t engross her. Lydia—the humiliation, the distress she was bringing on all of them, quickly swallowed up each personal care; and overlaying her face together with her handkerchief, Elizabeth was quickly misplaced to all the things else; and, after a pause of a number of minutes, was solely recalled to a way of her state of affairs by the voice of her companion, who, in a way which, although it spoke compassion, spoke likewise restraint, mentioned, “I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I anything to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing concern. Would to Heaven that anything could be either said or done on my part that might offer consolation to such distress! But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister’s having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley to-day.”

    “Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologise for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible, I know it cannot be long.”

    He readily assured her of his secrecy; once more expressed his sorrow for her misery, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at current motive to hope, and leaving his compliments for her relations, with just one severe, parting look, went away.

    As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how inconceivable it was that they need to ever see one another once more on such phrases of cordiality as had marked their a number of conferences in Derbyshire; and as she threw a retrospective look over the entire of their acquaintance, so filled with contradictions and varieties, sighed on the perverseness of these emotions which might now have promoted its continuance, and would previously have rejoiced in its termination.

    If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth’s change of sentiment shall be neither inconceivable nor defective. But if in any other case—if regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or unnatural, as compared of what’s so typically described as arising on a primary interview with its object, and even earlier than two phrases have been exchanged, nothing may be mentioned in her defence, besides that she had given considerably of a trial to the latter methodology in her partiality for Wickham, and that its sick success would possibly, maybe, authorise her to hunt the opposite much less fascinating mode of attachment. Be that as it might, she noticed him go together with remorse; and on this early instance of what Lydia’s infamy should produce, discovered further anguish as she mirrored on that wretched enterprise. Never, since studying Jane’s second letter, had she entertained a hope of Wickham’s which means to marry her. No one however Jane, she thought, may flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least of her emotions on this growth. While the contents of the primary letter remained in her thoughts, she was all shock—all astonishment that Wickham ought to marry a woman whom it was unimaginable he may marry for cash; and the way Lydia may ever have connected him had appeared incomprehensible. But now it was all too pure. For such an attachment as this she might need adequate charms; and although she didn’t suppose Lydia to be intentionally partaking in an elopement with out the intention of marriage, she had no issue in believing that neither her advantage nor her understanding would protect her from falling a straightforward prey.

    She had by no means perceived, whereas the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that Lydia had any partiality for him; however she was satisfied that Lydia needed solely encouragement to connect herself to anyone. Sometimes one officer, generally one other, had been her favorite, as their attentions raised them in her opinion. Her affections had frequently been fluctuating however by no means with out an object. The mischief of neglect and mistaken indulgence in direction of such a woman—oh! how acutely did she now really feel it!

    She was wild to be at residence—to listen to, to see, to be upon the spot to share with Jane within the cares that should now fall wholly upon her, in a household so deranged, a father absent, a mom incapable of exertion, and requiring fixed attendance; and although virtually persuaded that nothing might be completed for Lydia, her uncle’s interference appeared of the utmost significance, and until he entered the room her impatience was extreme. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried again in alarm, supposing by the servant’s account that their niece was taken all of a sudden sick; however satisfying them immediately on that head, she eagerly communicated the reason for their summons, studying the 2 letters aloud, and dwelling on the postscript of the final with trembling power, although Lydia had by no means been a favorite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner couldn’t however be deeply bothered. Not Lydia solely, however all have been involved in it; and after the primary exclamations of shock and horror, Mr. Gardiner promised each help in his energy. Elizabeth, although anticipating no much less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated by one spirit, all the things regarding their journey was speedily settled. They have been to be off as quickly as doable. “But what is to be done about Pemberley?” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John told us Mr. Darcy was here when you sent for us; was it so?”

    “Yes; and I told him we should not be able to keep our engagement. That is all settled.”

    “What is all settled?” repeated the opposite, as she bumped into her room to organize. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real truth? Oh, that I knew how it was!”

    But needs have been useless, or at the least may solely serve to amuse her within the hurry and confusion of the next hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure to be idle, she would have remained sure that each one employment was unimaginable to 1 so wretched as herself; however she had her share of enterprise in addition to her aunt, and amongst the remaining there have been notes to be written to all their associates at Lambton, with false excuses for his or her sudden departure. An hour, nonetheless, noticed the entire accomplished; and Mr. Gardiner in the meantime having settled his account on the inn, nothing remained to be completed however to go; and Elizabeth, after all of the distress of the morning, discovered herself, in a shorter house of time than she may have supposed, seated within the carriage, and on the street to Longbourn.

    Chapter 47

    “I have been thinking it over again, Elizabeth,” mentioned her uncle, as they drove from the city; “and really, upon serious consideration, I am much more inclined than I was to judge as your eldest sister does on the matter. It appears to me so very unlikely that any young man should form such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or friendless, and who was actually staying in his colonel’s family, that I am strongly inclined to hope the best. Could he expect that her friends would not step forward? Could he expect to be noticed again by the regiment, after such an affront to Colonel Forster? His temptation is not adequate to the risk!”

    “Do you really think so?” cried Elizabeth, brightening up for a second.

    “Upon my word,” mentioned Mrs. Gardiner, “I begin to be of your uncle’s opinion. It is really too great a violation of decency, honour, and interest, for him to be guilty of. I cannot think so very ill of Wickham. Can you yourself, Lizzy, so wholly give him up, as to believe him capable of it?”

    “Not, perhaps, of neglecting his own interest; but of every other neglect I can believe him capable. If, indeed, it should be so! But I dare not hope it. Why should they not go on to Scotland if that had been the case?”

    “In the first place,” replied Mr. Gardiner, “there is no absolute proof that they are not gone to Scotland.”

    “Oh! but their removing from the chaise into a hackney coach is such a presumption! And, besides, no traces of them were to be found on the Barnet road.”

    “Well, then—supposing them to be in London. They may be there, though for the purpose of concealment, for no more exceptional purpose. It is not likely that money should be very abundant on either side; and it might strike them that they could be more economically, though less expeditiously, married in London than in Scotland.”

    “But why all this secrecy? Why any fear of detection? Why must their marriage be private? Oh, no, no—this is not likely. His most particular friend, you see by Jane’s account, was persuaded of his never intending to marry her. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He cannot afford it. And what claims has Lydia—what attraction has she beyond youth, health, and good humour that could make him, for her sake, forego every chance of benefiting himself by marrying well? As to what restraint the apprehensions of disgrace in the corps might throw on a dishonourable elopement with her, I am not able to judge; for I know nothing of the effects that such a step might produce. But as to your other objection, I am afraid it will hardly hold good. Lydia has no brothers to step forward; and he might imagine, from my father’s behaviour, from his indolence and the little attention he has ever seemed to give to what was going forward in his family, that he would do as little, and think as little about it, as any father could do, in such a matter.”

    “But can you think that Lydia is so lost to everything but love of him as to consent to live with him on any terms other than marriage?”

    “It does seem, and it is most shocking indeed,” replied Elizabeth, with tears in her eyes, “that a sister’s sense of decency and virtue in such a point should admit of doubt. But, really, I know not what to say. Perhaps I am not doing her justice. But she is very young; she has never been taught to think on serious subjects; and for the last half-year, nay, for a twelvemonth—she has been given up to nothing but amusement and vanity. She has been allowed to dispose of her time in the most idle and frivolous manner, and to adopt any opinions that came in her way. Since the ——shire were first quartered in Meryton, nothing but love, flirtation, and officers have been in her head. She has been doing everything in her power by thinking and talking on the subject, to give greater—what shall I call it? susceptibility to her feelings; which are naturally lively enough. And we all know that Wickham has every charm of person and address that can captivate a woman.”

    “But you see that Jane,” mentioned her aunt, “does not think so very ill of Wickham as to believe him capable of the attempt.”

    “Of whom does Jane ever think ill? And who is there, whatever might be their former conduct, that she would think capable of such an attempt, till it were proved against them? But Jane knows, as well as I do, what Wickham really is. We both know that he has been profligate in every sense of the word; that he has neither integrity nor honour; that he is as false and deceitful as he is insinuating.”

    “And do you really know all this?” cried Mrs. Gardiner, whose curiosity as to the mode of her intelligence was all alive.

    “I do indeed,” replied Elizabeth, colouring. “I told you, the other day, of his infamous behaviour to Mr. Darcy; and you yourself, when last at Longbourn, heard in what manner he spoke of the man who had behaved with such forbearance and liberality towards him. And there are other circumstances which I am not at liberty—which it is not worth while to relate; but his lies about the whole Pemberley family are endless. From what he said of Miss Darcy I was thoroughly prepared to see a proud, reserved, disagreeable girl. Yet he knew to the contrary himself. He must know that she was as amiable and unpretending as we have found her.”

    “But does Lydia know nothing of this? can she be ignorant of what you and Jane seem so well to understand?”

    “Oh, yes!—that, that is the worst of all. Till I was in Kent, and saw so much both of Mr. Darcy and his relation Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself. And when I returned home, the ——shire was to leave Meryton in a week or fortnight’s time. As that was the case, neither Jane, to whom I related the whole, nor I, thought it necessary to make our knowledge public; for of what use could it apparently be to any one, that the good opinion which all the neighbourhood had of him should then be overthrown? And even when it was settled that Lydia should go with Mrs. Forster, the necessity of opening her eyes to his character never occurred to me. That she could be in any danger from the deception never entered my head. That such a consequence as this could ensue, you may easily believe, was far enough from my thoughts.”

    “When they all removed to Brighton, therefore, you had no reason, I suppose, to believe them fond of each other?”

    “Not the slightest. I can remember no symptom of affection on either side; and had anything of the kind been perceptible, you must be aware that ours is not a family on which it could be thrown away. When first he entered the corps, she was ready enough to admire him; but so we all were. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for the first two months; but he never distinguished her by any particular attention; and, consequently, after a moderate period of extravagant and wild admiration, her fancy for him gave way, and others of the regiment, who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”

    It could also be simply believed, that nonetheless little of novelty might be added to their fears, hopes, and conjectures, on this fascinating topic, by its repeated dialogue, no different may detain them from it lengthy, throughout the entire of the journey. From Elizabeth’s ideas it was by no means absent. Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she may discover no interval of ease or forgetfulness.

    They travelled as expeditiously as doable, and, sleeping one night time on the street, reached Longbourn by supper time the following day. It was a consolation to Elizabeth to think about that Jane couldn’t have been wearied by lengthy expectations.

    The little Gardiners, attracted by the sight of a chaise, have been standing on the steps of the home as they entered the paddock; and, when the carriage drove as much as the door, the joyful shock that lighted up their faces, and displayed itself over their complete our bodies, in a wide range of capers and frisks, was the primary pleasing earnest of their welcome.

    Elizabeth jumped out; and, after giving every of them a hasty kiss, hurried into the vestibule, the place Jane, who got here working down from her mom’s house, instantly met her.

    Elizabeth, as she affectionately embraced her, while tears stuffed the eyes of each, misplaced not a second in asking whether or not something had been heard of the fugitives.

    “Not yet,” replied Jane. “But now that my dear uncle is come, I hope everything will be well.”

    “Is my father in town?”

    “Yes, he went on Tuesday, as I wrote you word.”

    “And have you heard from him often?”

    “We have heard only twice. He wrote me a few lines on Wednesday to say that he had arrived in safety, and to give me his directions, which I particularly begged him to do. He merely added that he should not write again till he had something of importance to mention.”

    “And my mother—how is she? How are you all?”

    “My mother is tolerably well, I trust; though her spirits are greatly shaken. She is up stairs and will have great satisfaction in seeing you all. She does not yet leave her dressing-room. Mary and Kitty, thank Heaven, are quite well.”

    “But you—how are you?” cried Elizabeth. “You look pale. How much you must have gone through!”

    Her sister, nonetheless, assured her of her being completely effectively; and their dialog, which had been passing whereas Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner have been engaged with their kids, was now put an finish to by the strategy of the entire social gathering. Jane ran to her uncle and aunt, and welcomed and thanked them each, with alternate smiles and tears.

    When they have been all within the drawing-room, the questions which Elizabeth had already requested have been after all repeated by the others, they usually quickly discovered that Jane had no intelligence to present. The sanguine hope of fine, nonetheless, which the benevolence of her coronary heart advised had not but abandoned her; she nonetheless anticipated that it will all finish effectively, and that each morning would deliver some letter, both from Lydia or her father, to clarify their proceedings, and, maybe, announce their marriage.

    Mrs. Bennet, to whose house all of them repaired, after a couple of minutes’ dialog collectively, obtained them precisely as is perhaps anticipated; with tears and lamentations of remorse, invectives in opposition to the villainous conduct of Wickham, and complaints of her personal sufferings and ill-usage; blaming everyone however the particular person to whose ill-judging indulgence the errors of her daughter should principally be owing.

    “If I had been able,” mentioned she, “to carry my point in going to Brighton, with all my family, this would not have happened; but poor dear Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Why did the Forsters ever let her go out of their sight? I am sure there was some great neglect or other on their side, for she is not the kind of girl to do such a thing if she had been well looked after. I always thought they were very unfit to have the charge of her; but I was overruled, as I always am. Poor dear child! And now here’s Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight Wickham, wherever he meets him and then he will be killed, and what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out before he is cold in his grave, and if you are not kind to us, brother, I do not know what we shall do.”

    They all exclaimed in opposition to such terrific concepts; and Mr. Gardiner, after common assurances of his affection for her and all her household, instructed her that he meant to be in London the very subsequent day, and would help Mr. Bennet in each endeavour for recovering Lydia.

    “Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he; “though it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain. It is not quite a week since they left Brighton. In a few days more we may gain some news of them; and till we know that they are not married, and have no design of marrying, do not let us give the matter over as lost. As soon as I get to town I shall go to my brother, and make him come home with me to Gracechurch Street; and then we may consult together as to what is to be done.”

    “Oh! my dear brother,” replied Mrs. Bennet, “that is exactly what I could most wish for. And now do, when you get to town, find them out, wherever they may be; and if they are not married already, make them marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for that, but tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy them, after they are married. And, above all, keep Mr. Bennet from fighting. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in, that I am frighted out of my wits—and have such tremblings, such flutterings, all over me—such spasms in my side and pains in my head, and such beatings at heart, that I can get no rest by night nor by day. And tell my dear Lydia not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me, for she does not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how kind you are! I know you will contrive it all.”

    But Mr. Gardiner, although he assured her once more of his earnest endeavours within the trigger, couldn’t keep away from recommending moderation to her, as effectively in her hopes as her concern; and after speaking together with her on this method until dinner was on the desk, all of them left her to vent all her emotions on the housekeeper, who attended within the absence of her daughters.

    Though her brother and sister have been persuaded that there was no actual event for such a seclusion from the household, they didn’t try and oppose it, for they knew that she had not prudence sufficient to carry her tongue earlier than the servants, whereas they waited at desk, and judged it higher that one solely of the family, and the one whom they may most belief ought to comprehend all her fears and solicitude on the topic.

    In the dining-room they have been quickly joined by Mary and Kitty, who had been too busily engaged of their separate residences to make their look earlier than. One got here from her books, and the opposite from her toilette. The faces of each, nonetheless, have been tolerably calm; and no change was seen in both, besides that the lack of her favorite sister, or the anger which she had herself incurred on this enterprise, had given extra of fretfulness than common to the accents of Kitty. As for Mary, she was mistress sufficient of herself to whisper to Elizabeth, with a countenance of grave reflection, quickly after they have been seated at desk:

    “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 this useful lesson: that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable; that one false step involves her in endless ruin; that 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, however was an excessive amount of oppressed to make any reply. Mary, nonetheless, continued to console herself with such type of ethical extractions from the evil earlier than them.

    In the afternoon, the 2 elder Miss Bennets have been capable of be for half-an-hour by themselves; and Elizabeth immediately availed herself of the chance of constructing any inquiries, which Jane was equally wanting to fulfill. After becoming a member of normally lamentations over the dreadful sequel of this occasion, which Elizabeth thought of as all however sure, and Miss Bennet couldn’t assert to be wholly unimaginable, the previous continued the topic, by saying, “But tell me all and everything about it which I have not already heard. Give me further particulars. What did Colonel Forster say? Had they no apprehension of anything before the elopement took place? They must have seen them together for ever.”

    “Colonel Forster did own that he had often suspected some partiality, especially on Lydia’s side, but nothing to give him any alarm. I am so grieved for him! His behaviour was attentive and kind to the utmost. He was coming to us, in order to assure us of his concern, before he had any idea of their not being gone to Scotland: when that apprehension first got abroad, it hastened his journey.”

    “And was Denny convinced that Wickham would not marry? Did he know of their intending to go off? Had Colonel Forster seen Denny himself?”

    “Yes; but, when questioned by him, Denny denied knowing anything of their plans, and would not give his real opinion about it. He did not repeat his persuasion of their not marrying—and from that, I am inclined to hope, he might have been misunderstood before.”

    “And till Colonel Forster came himself, not one of you entertained a doubt, I suppose, of their being really married?”

    “How was it possible that such an idea should enter our brains? I felt a little uneasy—a little fearful of my sister’s happiness with him in marriage, because I knew that his conduct had not been always quite right. My father and mother knew nothing of that; they only felt how imprudent a match it must be. Kitty then owned, with a very natural triumph on knowing more than the rest of us, that in Lydia’s last letter she had prepared her for such a step. She had known, it seems, of their being in love with each other, many weeks.”

    “But not before they went to Brighton?”

    “No, I believe not.”

    “And did Colonel Forster appear to think well of Wickham himself? Does he know his real character?”

    “I must confess that he did not speak so well of Wickham as he formerly did. He believed him to be imprudent and extravagant. And since this sad affair has taken place, it is said that he left Meryton greatly in debt; but I hope this may be false.”

    “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 have been the contents:

    “MY DEAR HARRIET,

    “You will snigger when you already know the place I’m gone, and I can’t assist laughing myself at your shock to-morrow morning, as quickly as I’m missed. I’m going to Gretna Green, and in case you can’t guess with who, I shall assume you a simpleton, for there may be however one man on the planet I like, and he’s an angel. I ought to by no means be completely happy with out him, so assume it no hurt to be off. You needn’t ship them phrase at Longbourn of my going, if you don’t prefer it, for it is going to make the shock the higher, once I write to them and signal my title ‘Lydia Wickham.’ What joke will probably be! I can hardly write for laughing. Pray make my excuses to Pratt for not protecting my engagement, and dancing with him to-night. Tell him I hope he’ll excuse me when he is aware of all; and inform him I’ll dance with him on the subsequent ball we meet, with nice pleasure. I shall ship for my garments once I get to Longbourn; however I want you’ll inform Sally to fix a fantastic slit in my labored muslin robe earlier than they’re packed up. Good-bye. Give my like to Colonel Forster. I hope you’ll drink to our good journey.

    “Your affectionate good friend,

    “LYDIA BENNET.”

    “Oh! thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia!” cried Elizabeth when she had completed 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,” cried Elizabeth, “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 fatigue, 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,” cried Elizabeth; “perhaps she meant well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little of one’s neighbours. 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 meant to pursue, whereas on the town, for the restoration of his daughter.

    “He meant I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if anything could be made out from them. 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; and 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 anyhow 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; but 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 48

    The complete social gathering have been in hopes of a letter from Mr. Bennet the following morning, however the submit got here in with out bringing a single line from him. His household knew him to be, on all widespread events, a most negligent and dilatory correspondent; however at such a time they’d hoped for exertion. They have been compelled to conclude that he had no pleasing intelligence to ship; however even of that they’d have been glad to make sure. Mr. Gardiner had waited just for the letters earlier than he set off.

    When he was gone, they have been sure at the least of receiving fixed data of what was happening, and their uncle promised, at parting, to prevail on Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn, as quickly as he may, to the nice comfort of his sister, who thought of it as the one safety for her husband’s not being killed in a duel.

    Mrs. Gardiner and the youngsters have been to stay in Hertfordshire just a few days longer, as the previous thought her presence is perhaps serviceable to her nieces. She shared of their attendance on Mrs. Bennet, and was a fantastic consolation to them of their hours of freedom. Their different aunt additionally visited them steadily, and all the time, as she mentioned, with the design of cheering and heartening them up—although, as she by no means got here with out reporting some recent occasion of Wickham’s extravagance or irregularity, she seldom went away with out leaving them extra dispirited than she discovered them.

    All Meryton appeared striving to blacken the person who, however three months earlier than, had been virtually an angel of sunshine. He was declared to be in debt to each tradesman within the place, and his intrigues, all honoured with the title of seduction, had been prolonged into each tradesman’s household. Everybody declared that he was the wickedest younger man on the planet; and everyone started to search out out that they’d all the time distrusted the looks of his goodness. Elizabeth, although she didn’t credit score above half of what was mentioned, believed sufficient to make her former assurance of her sister’s break extra sure; and even Jane, who believed nonetheless much less of it, turned virtually hopeless, extra particularly because the time was now come when, if they’d gone to Scotland, which she had by no means earlier than completely despaired of, they have to perhaps have gained some information of them.

    Mr. Gardiner left Longbourn on Sunday; on Tuesday his spouse obtained a letter from him; it instructed them that, on his arrival, he had instantly came upon his brother, and persuaded him to come back to Gracechurch Street; that Mr. Bennet had been to Epsom and Clapham, earlier than his arrival, however with out gaining any passable data; and that he was now decided to inquire in any respect the principal lodges on the town, as Mr. Bennet thought it doable they could have gone to one among them, on their first coming to London, earlier than they procured lodgings. Mr. Gardiner himself didn’t anticipate any success from this measure, however as his brother was keen in it, he meant to help him in pursuing it. He added that Mr. Bennet appeared wholly disinclined at current to go away London and promised to jot down once more very quickly. There was additionally a postscript to this impact:

    “I have written to Colonel Forster to desire him to find out, if possible, from some of the young man’s 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 satisfy 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 grasp from whence this deference to her authority proceeded; however it was not in her energy to present any data of so passable a nature because the praise deserved. She had by no means heard of his having had any relations, besides a father and mom, each of whom had been lifeless a few years. It was doable, nonetheless, that a few of his companions within the ——shire would possibly be capable of give extra data; and although she was not very sanguine in anticipating it, the appliance was a one thing to stay up for.

    Every day at Longbourn was now a day of tension; however essentially the most anxious a part of every was when the submit was anticipated. The arrival of letters was the grand object of each morning’s impatience. Through letters, no matter of fine or dangerous was to be instructed could be communicated, and each succeeding day was anticipated to deliver some information of significance.

    But earlier than they heard once more from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for his or her father, from a distinct quarter, from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane had obtained instructions to open all that got here for him in his absence, she accordingly learn; and Elizabeth, who knew what curiosities his letters all the time have been, regarded over her, and browse it likewise. It was as follows:

    “MY DEAR SIR,

    “I really feel myself known as upon, by our relationship, and my state of affairs in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are actually struggling below, of which we have been yesterday knowledgeable by a letter from Hertfordshire. Be assured, my pricey sir, that Mrs. Collins and myself sincerely sympathise with you and all of your respectable household, in your current misery, which have to be of the bitterest sort, as a result of continuing from a trigger which no time can take away. No arguments shall be wanting on my half that may alleviate so extreme a misfortune—or that will consolation you, below a circumstance that have to be of all others essentially the most afflicting to a guardian’s thoughts. The dying of your daughter would have been a blessing as compared of this. And it’s the extra to be lamented, as a result of there may be motive to suppose as my pricey Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter has proceeded from a defective diploma of indulgence; although, on the similar time, for the comfort of your self and Mrs. Bennet, I’m inclined to assume that her personal disposition have to be naturally dangerous, or she couldn’t be responsible of such an enormity, at so early an age. Howsoever that could be, you’re grievously to be pitied; wherein opinion I’m not solely joined by Mrs. Collins, however likewise by Lady Catherine and her daughter, to whom I’ve associated the affair. They agree with me in apprehending that this false step in a single daughter shall be injurious to the fortunes of all of the others; for who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will join themselves with such a household? And this consideration leads me furthermore to replicate, with augmented satisfaction, on a sure occasion of final November; for had it been in any other case, I will need to have been concerned in all of your sorrow and shame. Let me then advise you, pricey sir, to console your self as a lot as doable, to throw off your unworthy little one out of your affection for ever, and depart her to reap the fruits of her personal heinous offense.

    “I am, dear sir, etc., etc.”

    Mr. Gardiner didn’t write once more until he had obtained a solution from Colonel Forster; after which he had nothing of a pleasing nature to ship. It was not identified that Wickham had a single relationship with whom he stored up any connection, and it was sure that he had no close to one dwelling. His former acquaintances had been quite a few; however since he had been within the militia, it didn’t seem that he was on phrases of explicit friendship with any of them. There was nobody, subsequently, who might be identified as possible to present any information of him. And within the wretched state of his personal funds, there was a really highly effective motive for secrecy, along with his concern of discovery by Lydia’s relations, for it had simply transpired that he had left gaming money owed behind him to a really appreciable quantity. Colonel Forster believed that greater than a thousand kilos could be essential to clear his bills at Brighton. He owed deal on the town, however his money owed of honour have been nonetheless extra formidable. Mr. Gardiner didn’t try to hide these particulars from the Longbourn household. 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 could anticipate to see their father at residence on the next day, which was Saturday. Rendered spiritless by the ill-success of all their endeavours, he had yielded to his brother-in-law’s entreaty that he would return to his household, and depart it to him to do no matter event would possibly recommend to be advisable for persevering with their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was instructed of this, she didn’t specific a lot satisfaction as her kids anticipated, contemplating what her anxiousness for his life had been earlier than.

    “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 started to want to be at residence, it was settled that she and the youngsters ought to go to London, on the similar time that Mr. Bennet got here from it. The coach, subsequently, took them the primary stage of their journey, and introduced its grasp again to Longbourn.

    Mrs. Gardiner went away in all of the perplexity about Elizabeth and her Derbyshire good friend that had attended her from that a part of the world. His title had by no means been voluntarily talked about earlier than them by her niece; and the type of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had shaped, of their being adopted by a letter from him, had led to nothing. Elizabeth had obtained none since her return that would come from Pemberley.

    The current sad state of the household rendered another excuse for the lowness of her spirits pointless; nothing, subsequently, might be pretty conjectured from that, although Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably effectively acquainted together with her personal emotions, was completely conscious that, had she identified nothing of Darcy, she may have borne the dread of Lydia’s infamy considerably higher. It would have spared her, she thought, one sleepless night time out of two.

    When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the looks of his common philosophic composure. He mentioned as little as he had ever been within the behavior of claiming; made no point out of the enterprise that had taken him away, and it was a while earlier than his daughters had braveness to talk of it.

    It was not until the afternoon, when he had joined them at tea, that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the topic; after which, on her briefly expressing her sorrow for what he will need to 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,” mentioned her father drily; “and her residence there will probably be of some duration.”

    Then after a brief silence he continued:

    “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 have been interrupted by Miss Bennet, who got here to fetch her mom’s tea.

    “This is a parade,” he cried, “which does one good; it gives such an elegance to misfortune! 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,” mentioned 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 absolutely 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 severe gentle, started to cry.

    “Well, well,” mentioned he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of them.”

    Chapter 49

    Two days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth have been strolling collectively within the shrubbery behind the home, they noticed the housekeeper coming in direction of them, and, concluding that she got here to name them to their mom, went ahead to fulfill her; however, as a substitute of the anticipated summons, after they approached her, she mentioned to Miss Bennet, “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,” cried Mrs. Hill, in nice astonishment, “don’t you know there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here this half-hour, and master has had a letter.”

    Away ran the ladies, too wanting to get in to have time for speech. They ran via the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the library; their father was in neither; they usually have been on the purpose of searching for him up stairs with their mom, after they have been met by the butler, who mentioned:

    “If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the little copse.”

    Upon this data, they immediately handed via the corridor as soon as extra, and ran throughout the garden after their father, who was intentionally pursuing his means in direction of a small wooden on one facet of the paddock.

    Jane, who was not so gentle nor a lot within the behavior of working as Elizabeth, quickly lagged behind, whereas her sister, panting for breath, got here up with him, and eagerly cried out:

    “Oh, papa, what news—what news? Have you heard from my uncle?”

    “Yes I have had a letter from him by express.”

    “Well, and what news does it bring—good or bad?”

    “What is there of good to be expected?” mentioned he, taking the letter from his pocket. “But perhaps you would like to read it.”

    Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now got here up.

    “Read it aloud,” mentioned their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is about.”

    “Gracechurch Street, Monday, August 2.

    “MY DEAR BROTHER,

    “At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such as, upon the whole, I hope it will give you satisfaction. Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet; it is enough to know they are discovered. I have seen them both—”

    “Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane; “they are married!”

    Elizabeth learn on:

    “I’ve seen them each. They usually are not married, nor can I discover there was any intention of being so; however if you’re keen to carry out the engagements which I’ve ventured to make in your facet, I hope it won’t be lengthy earlier than they’re. All that’s required of you is, to guarantee to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the 5 thousand kilos secured amongst your kids after the decease of your self and my sister; and, furthermore, to enter into an engagement of permitting her, throughout your life, 100 kilos each year. These are circumstances which, contemplating all the things, I had no hesitation in complying with, so far as I assumed myself privileged, for you. I shall ship this by specific, that no time could also be misplaced in bringing me your reply. You will simply comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s circumstances usually are not so hopeless as they’re usually believed to be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I’m completely happy to say there shall be some little cash, even when all his money owed are discharged, to decide on my niece, along with her personal fortune. If, as I conclude would be the case, you ship me full powers to behave in your title all through the entire of this enterprise, I’ll instantly give instructions to Haggerston for getting ready a correct settlement. There won’t be the smallest event on your coming to city once more; subsequently keep quiet at Longbourn, and depend upon my diligence and care. Send again your reply as quick as you’ll be able to, and watch out to jot down explicitly. We have judged it greatest that my niece ought to be married from this home, of which I hope you’ll approve. She involves us to-day. I shall write once more as quickly as something extra is set on. Yours, and so forth.,

    “EDW. GARDINER.”

    “Is it possible?” cried Elizabeth, when she had completed. “Can it be possible that he will marry her?”

    “Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we thought him,” mentioned her sister. “My dear father, I congratulate you.”

    “And have you answered the letter?” cried Elizabeth.

    “No; but it must be done soon.”

    Most earnestly did she then entreaty him to lose no extra time earlier than he wrote.

    “Oh! my dear father,” she cried, “come back and write immediately. Consider how important every moment is in such a case.”

    “Let me write for you,” mentioned Jane, “if you dislike the trouble yourself.”

    “I dislike it very much,” he replied; “but it must be done.”

    And so saying, he turned again with them, and walked in direction of the home.

    “And may I ask—” mentioned Elizabeth; “but the terms, I suppose, must be complied with.”

    “Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.”

    “And they must marry! Yet he is such a man!”

    “Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But there are two things that I want very much to know; one is, how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about; and the other, how am I ever to pay him.”

    “Money! My uncle!” cried Jane, “what do you mean, sir?”

    “I mean, that no man in his senses would marry Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a year during my life, and fifty after I am gone.”

    “That is very true,” mentioned Elizabeth; “though it had not occurred to me before. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh! it must be my uncle’s doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he has distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”

    “No,” mentioned her father; “Wickham’s a fool if he takes her with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to think so ill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship.”

    “Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to be repaid?”

    Mr. Bennet made no reply, and every of them, deep in thought, continued silent until they reached the home. Their father then went on to the library to jot down, and the ladies walked into the breakfast-room.

    “And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as quickly as they have been by themselves. “How strange this is! And for this we are to be thankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness, and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice. Oh, Lydia!”

    “I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, “that he certainly would not marry Lydia if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kind uncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that ten thousand pounds, or anything like it, has been advanced. He has children of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half ten thousand pounds?”

    “If he were ever able to learn what Wickham’s debts have been,” mentioned Elizabeth, “and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shall exactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham has not sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never be requited. Their taking her home, and affording her their personal protection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage as years of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she is actually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now, she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when she first sees my aunt!”

    “We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” mentioned Jane: “I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marry her is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way of thinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myself they will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may in time make their past imprudence forgotten.”

    “Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, “as neither you, nor I, nor anybody can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”

    It now occurred to the ladies that their mom was in all probability completely unaware of what had occurred. They went to the library, subsequently, and requested their father whether or not he wouldn’t want them to make it identified to her. He was writing and, with out elevating his head, coolly replied:

    “Just as you please.”

    “May we take my uncle’s letter to read to her?”

    “Take whatever you like, and get away.”

    Elizabeth took the letter from his writing-table, they usually went up stairs collectively. Mary and Kitty have been each with Mrs. Bennet: one communication would, subsequently, do for all. After a slight preparation for excellent news, the letter was learn aloud. Mrs. Bennet may hardly comprise herself. As quickly as Jane had learn Mr. Gardiner’s hope of Lydia’s being quickly married, her pleasure burst forth, and each following sentence added to its exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent from delight, as she had ever been fidgety from alarm and vexation. To know that her daughter could be married was sufficient. She was disturbed by no concern for her felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.

    “My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried. “This is delightful indeed! She will be married! I shall see her again! She will be married at sixteen! My good, kind brother! I knew how it would be. I knew he would manage everything! How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner about them directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him how much he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell, Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dear Lydia! How merry we shall be together when we meet!”

    Her eldest daughter endeavoured to present some reduction to the violence of those transports, by main her ideas to the obligations which Mr. Gardiner’s behaviour laid all of them below.

    “For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, “in a great measure to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himself to assist Mr. Wickham with money.”

    “Well,” cried her mom, “it is all very right; who should do it but her own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my children must have had all his money, you know; and it is the first time we have ever had anything from him, except a few presents. Well! I am so happy! In a short time I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How well it sounds! And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am in such a flutter, that I am sure I can’t write; so I will dictate, and you write for me. We will settle with your father about the money afterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.”

    She was then continuing to all of the particulars of calico, muslin, and cambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, had not Jane, although with some issue, persuaded her to attend until her father was at leisure to be consulted. One day’s delay, she noticed, could be of small significance; and her mom was too completely happy to be fairly so obstinate as common. Other schemes, too, got here into her head.

    “I will go to Meryton,” mentioned she, “as soon as I am dressed, and tell the good, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call on Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. An airing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do anything for you in Meryton? Oh! Here comes Hill! My dear Hill, have you heard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shall all have a bowl of punch to make merry at her wedding.”

    Mrs. Hill started immediately to precise her pleasure. Elizabeth obtained her congratulations amongst the remaining, after which, sick of this folly, took refuge in her personal room, that she would possibly assume with freedom.

    Poor Lydia’s state of affairs should, at greatest, be dangerous sufficient; however that it was no worse, she had should be grateful. She felt it so; and although, in trying ahead, neither rational happiness nor worldly prosperity might be justly anticipated for her sister, in trying again to what they’d feared, solely two hours in the past, she felt all some great benefits of what they’d gained.

    Chapter 50

    Mr. Bennet had fairly often wished earlier than this era of his life that, as a substitute of spending his complete earnings, he had laid by an annual sum for the higher provision of his kids, and of his spouse, if she survived him. He now wished it greater than ever. Had he completed his responsibility in that respect, Lydia needn’t have been indebted to her uncle for no matter of honour or credit score may now be bought for her. The satisfaction of prevailing on some of the nugatory younger males in Great Britain to be her husband would possibly then have rested in its correct place.

    He was significantly involved {that a} explanation for so little benefit to anybody ought to be forwarded on the sole expense of his brother-in-law, and he was decided, if doable, to search out out the extent of his help, and to discharge the duty as quickly as he may.

    When first Mr. Bennet had married, financial system was held to be completely ineffective, for, after all, they have been to have a son. The son was to hitch in slicing off the entail, as quickly as he ought to be of age, and the widow and youthful kids would by which means be offered for. Five daughters successively entered the world, however but the son was to come back; and Mrs. Bennet, for a few years after Lydia’s delivery, had been sure that he would. This occasion had finally been despaired of, however it was then too late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no flip for financial system, and her husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their earnings.

    Five thousand kilos was settled by marriage articles on Mrs. Bennet and the youngsters. But in what proportions it ought to be divided amongst the latter relied on the need of the dad and mom. This was one level, with regard to Lydia, at the least, which was now to be settled, and Mr. Bennet may don’t have any hesitation in acceding to the proposal earlier than him. In phrases of grateful acknowledgment for the kindness of his brother, although expressed most concisely, he then delivered on paper his good approbation of all that was completed, and his willingness to fulfil the engagements that had been made for him. He had by no means earlier than supposed that, may Wickham be prevailed on to marry his daughter, it will be completed with so little inconvenience to himself as by the current association. He would scarcely be ten kilos a 12 months the loser by the hundred that was to be paid them; for, what together with her board and pocket allowance, and the continuous presents in cash which handed to her via her mom’s palms, Lydia’s bills had been little or no inside that sum.

    That it will be completed with such trifling exertion on his facet, too, was one other very welcome shock; for his want at current was to have as little hassle within the enterprise as doable. When the primary transports of rage which had produced his exercise in searching for her have been over, he naturally returned to all his former indolence. His letter was quickly dispatched; for, although dilatory in endeavor enterprise, he was fast in its execution. He begged to know additional particulars of what he was indebted to his brother, however was too offended with Lydia to ship any message to her.

    The excellent news unfold shortly via the home, and with proportionate pace via the neighbourhood. It was borne within the latter with first rate philosophy. To ensure, it will have been extra for the benefit of dialog had Miss Lydia Bennet come across the city; or, because the happiest different, been secluded from the world, in some distant farmhouse. But there was a lot to be talked of in marrying her; and the good-natured needs for her well-doing which had proceeded earlier than from all of the spiteful outdated girls in Meryton misplaced however somewhat of their spirit on this change of circumstances, as a result of with such an husband her distress was thought of sure.

    It was a fortnight since Mrs. Bennet had been downstairs; however on this completely happy day she once more took her seat on the head of her desk, and in spirits oppressively excessive. No sentiment of disgrace gave a humid to her triumph. The marriage of a daughter, which had been the primary object of her needs since Jane was sixteen, was now on the purpose of accomplishment, and her ideas and her phrases ran wholly on these attendants of chic nuptials, advantageous muslins, new carriages, and servants. She was busily looking via the neighbourhood for a correct state of affairs for her daughter, and, with out figuring out or contemplating what their earnings is perhaps, rejected many as poor in measurement and significance.

    “Haye Park might do,” mentioned she, “if the Gouldings could quit it—or the great house at Stoke, if the drawing-room were larger; but Ashworth is too far off! I could not bear to have her ten miles from me; and as for Pulvis Lodge, the attics are dreadful.”

    Her husband allowed her to speak on with out interruption whereas the servants remained. But after they had withdrawn, he mentioned to her: “Mrs. Bennet, before you take any or all of these houses for your son and daughter, let us come to a right understanding. Into one house in this neighbourhood they shall never have admittance. I will not encourage the impudence of either, by receiving them at Longbourn.”

    An extended dispute adopted this declaration; however Mr. Bennet was agency. It quickly led to a different; and Mrs. Bennet discovered, with amazement and horror, that her husband wouldn’t advance a guinea to purchase garments for his daughter. He protested that she ought to obtain from him no mark of affection no matter on the event. Mrs. Bennet may hardly realize it. That his anger might be carried to such some extent of inconceivable resentment as to refuse his daughter a privilege with out which her marriage would scarcely appear legitimate, exceeded all she may consider doable. She was extra alive to the shame which her need of latest garments should replicate on her daughter’s nuptials, than to any sense of disgrace at her eloping and dwelling with Wickham a fortnight earlier than they befell.

    Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had, from the misery of the second, been led to make Mr. Darcy acquainted with their fears for her sister; for since her marriage would so shortly give the right termination to the elopement, they could hope to hide its unfavourable starting from all those that weren’t instantly on the spot.

    She had no concern of its spreading farther via his means. There have been few individuals on whose secrecy she would have extra confidently depended; however, on the similar time, there was nobody whose information of a sister’s frailty would have mortified her a lot—not, nonetheless, from any concern of drawback from it individually to herself, for, at any charge, there appeared a gulf impassable between them. Had Lydia’s marriage been concluded on essentially the most honourable phrases, it was to not be supposed that Mr. Darcy would join himself with a household the place, to each different objection, would now be added an alliance and relationship of the closest sort with a person whom he so justly scorned.

    From such a connection she couldn’t surprise that he would shrink. The want of procuring her regard, which she had assured herself of his feeling in Derbyshire, couldn’t in rational expectation survive such a blow as this. She was humbled, she was grieved; she repented, although she hardly knew of what. She turned jealous of his esteem, when she may not hope to be benefited by it. She needed to listen to of him, when there appeared the least probability of gaining intelligence. She was satisfied that she may have been pleased with him, when it was not possible they need to meet.

    What a triumph for him, as she typically thought, may he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned solely 4 months in the past, would now have been most gladly and gratefully obtained! He was as beneficiant, she doubted not, as essentially the most beneficiant of his intercourse; however whereas he was mortal, there have to be a triumph.

    She started now to understand that he was precisely the person who, in disposition and skills, would most swimsuit her. His understanding and mood, although not like her personal, would have answered all her needs. It was an union that will need to have been to the benefit of each; by her ease and liveliness, his thoughts might need been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, data, and information of the world, she will need to have obtained advantage of higher significance.

    But no such completely happy marriage may now educate the admiring multitude what connubial felicity actually was. An union of a distinct tendency, and precluding the potential of the opposite, was quickly to be shaped of their household.

    How Wickham and Lydia have been to be supported in tolerable independence, she couldn’t think about. But how little of everlasting happiness may belong to a few who have been solely introduced collectively as a result of their passions have been stronger than their advantage, she may simply conjecture.

    Mr. Gardiner quickly wrote once more to his brother. To Mr. Bennet’s acknowledgments he briefly replied, with assurance of his eagerness to advertise the welfare of any of his household; and concluded with entreaties that the topic would possibly by no means be talked about to him once more. The principal purport of his letter was to tell them that Mr. Wickham had resolved on quitting the militia.

    “It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as quickly as his marriage was mounted on. And I believe you’ll agree with me, in contemplating the removing from that corps as extremely advisable, each on his account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to enter the regulars; and amongst his former associates, there are nonetheless some who’re ready and keen to help him within the military. He has the promise of an ensigncy in General ——’s regiment, now quartered within the North. It is a bonus to have it so removed from this a part of the dominion. He guarantees pretty; and I hope amongst totally different individuals, the place they might every have a personality to protect, they may each be extra prudent. I’ve written to Colonel Forster, to tell him of our current preparations, and to request that he’ll fulfill the varied collectors of Mr. Wickham in and close to Brighton, with assurances of speedy cost, for which I’ve pledged myself. And will you give your self the difficulty of carrying related assurances to his collectors in Meryton, of whom I shall subjoin an inventory in line with his data? He has given in all his money owed; I hope at the least he has not deceived us. Haggerston has our instructions, and all shall be accomplished in per week. They will then be part of his regiment, until they’re first invited to Longbourn; and I perceive from Mrs. Gardiner, that my niece could be very desirous of seeing you all earlier than she leaves the South. She is effectively, and begs to be dutifully remembered to you and her mom.—Yours, and so forth.,

    “E. GARDINER.”

    Mr. Bennet and his daughters noticed all some great benefits of Wickham’s removing from the ——shire as clearly as Mr. Gardiner may do. But Mrs. Bennet was not so effectively happy with it. Lydia’s being settled within the North, simply when she had anticipated most pleasure and satisfaction in her firm, for she had certainly not given up her plan of their residing in Hertfordshire, was a extreme disappointment; and, apart from, it was such a pity that Lydia ought to be taken from a regiment the place she was acquainted with everyone, and had so many favourites.

    “She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” mentioned she, “it will be quite shocking to send her away! And there are several of the young men, too, that she likes very much. The officers may not be so pleasant in General ——’s regiment.”

    His daughter’s request, for such it is perhaps thought of, of being admitted into her household once more earlier than she set off for the North, obtained at first an absolute detrimental. But Jane and Elizabeth, who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s emotions and consequence, that she ought to be seen on her marriage by her dad and mom, urged him so earnestly but so rationally and so mildly, to obtain her and her husband at Longbourn, as quickly as they have been married, that he was prevailed on to assume as they thought, and act as they wished. And their mom had the satisfaction of figuring out that she would be capable of present her married daughter within the neighbourhood earlier than she was banished to the North. When Mr. Bennet wrote once more to his brother, subsequently, he despatched his permission for them to come back; and it was settled, that as quickly because the ceremony was over, they need to proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth was stunned, nonetheless, that Wickham ought to consent to such a scheme, and had she consulted solely her personal inclination, any assembly with him would have been the final object of her needs.

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  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapters 31-40

    Chapter 31

    Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners have been very a lot admired on the Parsonage, and the women all felt that he should add significantly to the pleasures of their engagements at Rosings. It was some days, nevertheless, earlier than they acquired any invitation thither—for whereas there have been guests in the home, they may not be essential; and it was not until Easter-day, nearly per week after the gents’s arrival, that they have been honoured by such an consideration, after which they have been merely requested on leaving church to return there within the night. For the final week that they had seen little or no of Lady Catherine or her daughter. Colonel Fitzwilliam had referred to as on the Parsonage greater than as soon as in the course of the time, however Mr. Darcy that they had seen solely at church.

    The invitation was accepted after all, and at a correct hour they joined the get together in Lady Catherine’s drawing-room. Her ladyship acquired them civilly, however it was plain that their firm was in no way so acceptable as when she may get no person else; and he or she was, in actual fact, nearly engrossed by her nephews, talking to them, particularly to Darcy, rather more than to some other individual within the room.

    Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared actually glad to see them; something was a welcome reduction to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s fairly good friend had furthermore caught his fancy very a lot. He now seated himself by her, and talked so agreeably of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at dwelling, of latest books and music, that Elizabeth had by no means been half so nicely entertained in that room earlier than; they usually conversed with a lot spirit and move, as to attract the eye of Lady Catherine herself, in addition to of Mr. Darcy. His eyes had been quickly and repeatedly turned in direction of them with a glance of curiosity; and that her ladyship, after some time, shared the sensation, was extra overtly acknowledged, for she didn’t scruple to name out:

    “What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is.”

    “We are speaking of music, madam,” mentioned he, when not capable of keep away from a reply.

    “Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?”

    Mr. Darcy spoke with affectionate reward of his sister’s proficiency.

    “I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” mentioned Lady Catherine; “and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a good deal.”

    “I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. She practises very constantly.”

    “So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well unless she practises more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room. She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house.”

    Mr. Darcy seemed slightly ashamed of his aunt’s ill-breeding, and made no reply.

    When espresso was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth of getting promised to play to him; and he or she sat down on to the instrument. He drew a chair close to her. Lady Catherine listened to half a tune, after which talked, as earlier than, to her different nephew; until the latter walked away from her, and making together with his normal deliberation in direction of the pianoforte stationed himself in order to command a full view of the honest performer’s countenance. Elizabeth noticed what he was doing, and on the first handy pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and mentioned:

    “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.”

    “I shall not say you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own.”

    Elizabeth laughed heartily at this image of herself, and mentioned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire—and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too—for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out as will shock your relations to hear.”

    “I am not afraid of you,” mentioned he, smilingly.

    “Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”

    “You shall hear then—but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball—and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact.”

    “I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party.”

    “True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders.”

    “Perhaps,” mentioned Darcy, “I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend myself to strangers.”

    “Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?” mentioned Elizabeth, nonetheless addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?”

    “I can answer your question,” mentioned Fitzwilliam, “without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble.”

    “I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” mentioned Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.”

    “My fingers,” mentioned Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I will not take the trouble of practising. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution.”

    Darcy smiled and mentioned, “You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers.”

    Here they have been interrupted by Lady Catherine, who referred to as out to know what they have been speaking of. Elizabeth instantly started taking part in once more. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a couple of minutes, mentioned to Darcy:

    “Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne’s. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn.”

    Elizabeth checked out Darcy to see how cordially he assented to his cousin’s reward; however neither at that second nor at some other may she discern any symptom of affection; and from the entire of his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this consolation for Miss Bingley, that he may need been simply as prone to marry her, had she been his relation.

    Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth’s efficiency, mixing with them many directions on execution and style. Elizabeth acquired them with all of the forbearance of civility, and, on the request of the gents, remained on the instrument until her ladyship’s carriage was able to take all of them dwelling.

    Chapter 32

    Elizabeth was sitting by herself the following morning, and writing to Jane whereas Mrs. Collins and Maria have been gone on enterprise into the village, when she was startled by a hoop on the door, the sure sign of a customer. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and below that apprehension was placing away her half-finished letter that she may escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and, to her very nice shock, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy solely, entered the room.

    He appeared astonished too on discovering her alone, and apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the women have been to be inside.

    They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings have been made, appeared at risk of sinking into complete silence. It was completely essential, subsequently, to consider one thing, and on this emergence recollecting when she had seen him final in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say as regards to their hasty departure, she noticed:

    “How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London?”

    “Perfectly so, I thank you.”

    She discovered that she was to obtain no different reply, and, after a brief pause added:

    “I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?”

    “I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing.”

    “If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps, Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep it or quit it on the same principle.”

    “I should not be surprised,” mentioned Darcy, “if he were to give it up as soon as any eligible purchase offers.”

    Elizabeth made no reply. She was afraid of speaking longer of his good friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now decided to depart the difficulty of discovering a topic to him.

    He took the trace, and shortly started with, “This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford.”

    “I believe she did—and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.”

    “Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife.”

    “Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding—though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is certainly a very good match for her.”

    “It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.”

    “An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles.”

    “And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day’s journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance.”

    “I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match,” cried Elizabeth. “I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family.”

    “It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far.”

    As he spoke there was a kind of smile which Elizabeth fancied she understood; he have to be supposing her to be considering of Jane and Netherfield, and he or she blushed as she answered:

    “I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys—and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance.”

    Mr. Darcy drew his chair slightly in direction of her, and mentioned, “You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn.”

    Elizabeth seemed shocked. The gentleman skilled some change of feeling; he drew again his chair, took a newspaper from the desk, and glancing over it, mentioned, in a colder voice:

    “Are you pleased with Kent?”

    A brief dialogue as regards to the nation ensued, on both facet calm and concise—and shortly put an finish to by the doorway of Charlotte and her sister, simply returned from her stroll. The tete-a-tete shocked them. Mr. Darcy associated the error which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a couple of minutes longer with out saying a lot to anyone, went away.

    “What can be the meaning of this?” mentioned Charlotte, as quickly as he was gone. “My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he would never have called us in this familiar way.”

    But when Elizabeth advised of his silence; it didn’t appear very probably, even to Charlotte’s needs, to be the case; and after varied conjectures, they may finally solely suppose his go to to proceed from the issue of discovering something to do, which was the extra possible from the time of 12 months. All discipline sports activities have been over. Within doorways there was Lady Catherine, books, and a billiard-table, however gents can’t all the time be inside doorways; and within the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the stroll to it, or of the individuals who lived in it, the 2 cousins discovered a temptation from this era of strolling thither nearly on daily basis. They referred to as at varied instances of the morning, generally individually, generally collectively, and from time to time accompanied by their aunt. It was plain to all of them that Colonel Fitzwilliam got here as a result of he had pleasure of their society, a persuasion which after all really useful him nonetheless extra; and Elizabeth was reminded by her personal satisfaction in being with him, in addition to by his evident admiration of her, of her former favorite George Wickham; and although, in evaluating them, she noticed there was much less fascinating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners, she believed he may need one of the best knowledgeable thoughts.

    But why Mr. Darcy got here so typically to the Parsonage, it was extra obscure. It couldn’t be for society, as he continuously sat there ten minutes collectively with out opening his lips; and when he did converse, it appeared the impact of necessity relatively than of selection—a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure to himself. He seldom appeared actually animated. Mrs. Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s sometimes laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was usually totally different, which her personal information of him couldn’t have advised her; and as she would appreciated to have believed this modification the impact of affection, and the item of that love her good friend Eliza, she set herself severely to work to seek out it out. She watched him every time they have been at Rosings, and every time he got here to Hunsford; however with out a lot success. He actually checked out her good friend a terrific deal, however the expression of that look was disputable. It was an earnest, steadfast gaze, however she typically doubted whether or not there have been a lot admiration in it, and generally it appeared nothing however absence of thoughts.

    She had a couple of times instructed to Elizabeth the potential for his being a fan of her, however Elizabeth all the time laughed on the thought; and Mrs. Collins didn’t assume it proper to press the topic, from the hazard of elevating expectations which could solely finish in disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt, that each one her good friend’s dislike would vanish, if she may suppose him to be in her energy.

    In her type schemes for Elizabeth, she generally deliberate her marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was past comparability probably the most nice man; he actually admired her, and his state of affairs in life was most eligible; however, to counterbalance these benefits, Mr. Darcy had appreciable patronage within the church, and his cousin may have none in any respect.

    Chapter 33

    More than as soon as did Elizabeth, in her ramble throughout the park, unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all of the perverseness of the mischance that ought to carry him the place nobody else was introduced, and, to forestall its ever occurring once more, took care to tell him at first that it was a favorite hang-out of hers. How it may happen a second time, subsequently, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a 3rd. It appeared like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these events it was not merely a number of formal inquiries and an ungainly pause after which away, however he really thought it essential to show again and stroll along with her. He by no means mentioned a terrific deal, nor did she give herself the difficulty of speaking or of listening a lot; however it struck her in the middle of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’s happiness; and that in talking of Rosings and her not completely understanding the home, he appeared to count on that every time she got here into Kent once more she can be staying there too. His phrases appeared to indicate it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his ideas? She supposed, if he meant something, he should imply an allusion to what may come up in that quarter. It distressed her slightly, and he or she was fairly glad to seek out herself on the gate within the pales reverse the Parsonage.

    She was engaged sooner or later as she walked, in perusing Jane’s final letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane had not written in spirits, when, as a substitute of being once more shocked by Mr. Darcy, she noticed on wanting up that Colonel Fitzwilliam was assembly her. Putting away the letter instantly and forcing a smile, she mentioned:

    “I did not know before that you ever walked this way.”

    “I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the Parsonage. Are you going much farther?”

    “No, I should have turned in a moment.”

    And accordingly she did flip, they usually walked in direction of the Parsonage collectively.

    “Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?” mentioned she.

    “Yes—if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases.”

    “And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr. Darcy.”

    “He likes to have his own way very well,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “But so we all do. It is only that he has better means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence.”

    “In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring anything you had a fancy for?”

    “These are home questions—and perhaps I cannot say that I have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like.”

    “Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they very often do.”

    “Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money.”

    “Is this,” thought Elizabeth, “meant for me?” and he or she colored on the thought; however, recovering herself, mentioned in a energetic tone, “And pray, what is the usual price of an earl’s younger son? Unless the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds.”

    He answered her in the identical fashion, and the topic dropped. To interrupt a silence which could make him fancy her affected with what had handed, she quickly afterwards mentioned:

    “I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But, perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her.”

    “No,” mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam, “that is an advantage which he must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship of Miss Darcy.”

    “Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way.”

    As she spoke she noticed him taking a look at her earnestly; and the style by which he instantly requested her why she supposed Miss Darcy probably to offer them any uneasiness, satisfied her that she had in some way or different received fairly close to the reality. She straight replied:

    “You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world. She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”

    “I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike man—he is a great friend of Darcy’s.”

    “Oh! yes,” mentioned Elizabeth drily; “Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”

    “Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of him in those points where he most wants care. From something that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the person meant. It was all conjecture.”

    “What is it you mean?”

    “It is a circumstance which Darcy could not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get round to the lady’s family, it would be an unpleasant thing.”

    “You may depend upon my not mentioning it.”

    “And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get into a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to have been together the whole of last summer.”

    “Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?”

    “I understood that there were some very strong objections against the lady.”

    “And what arts did he use to separate them?”

    “He did not talk to me of his own arts,” mentioned Fitzwilliam, smiling. “He only told me what I have now told you.”

    Elizabeth made no reply, and walked on, her coronary heart swelling with indignation. After watching her slightly, Fitzwilliam requested her why she was so considerate.

    “I am thinking of what you have been telling me,” mentioned she. “Your cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he to be the judge?”

    “You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?”

    “I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend’s inclination, or why, upon his own judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy. But,” she continued, recollecting herself, “as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case.”

    “That is not an unnatural surmise,” mentioned Fitzwilliam, “but it is a lessening of the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly.”

    This was spoken jestingly; however it appeared to her so only a image of Mr. Darcy, that she wouldn’t belief herself with a solution, and subsequently, abruptly altering the dialog talked on detached issues till they reached the Parsonage. There, shut into her personal room, as quickly as their customer left them, she may assume with out interruption of all that she had heard. It was to not be supposed that some other individuals could possibly be meant than these with whom she was linked. There couldn’t exist on the earth two males over whom Mr. Darcy may have such boundless affect. That he had been involved within the measures taken to separate Bingley and Jane she had by no means doubted; however she had all the time attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and association of them. If his personal self-importance, nevertheless, didn’t mislead him, he was the trigger, his delight and caprice have been the trigger, of all that Jane had suffered, and nonetheless continued to undergo. He had ruined for some time each hope of happiness for probably the most affectionate, beneficiant coronary heart on the earth; and nobody may say how lasting an evil he may need inflicted.

    “There were some very strong objections against the lady,” have been Colonel Fitzwilliam’s phrases; and people robust objections most likely have been, her having one uncle who was a rustic lawyer, and one other who was in enterprise in London.

    “To Jane herself,” she exclaimed, “there could be no possibility of objection; all loveliness and goodness as she is!—her understanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father, who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities Mr. Darcy himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will probably never reach.” When she considered her mom, her confidence gave means slightly; however she wouldn’t enable that any objections there had materials weight with Mr. Darcy, whose delight, she was satisfied, would obtain a deeper wound from the need of significance in his good friend’s connections, than from their need of sense; and he or she was fairly determined, finally, that he had been partly ruled by this worst form of delight, and partly by the want of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.

    The agitation and tears which the topic occasioned, introduced on a headache; and it grew a lot worse in direction of the night, that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it decided her to not attend her cousins to Rosings, the place they have been engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was actually unwell, didn’t press her to go and as a lot as doable prevented her husband from urgent her; however Mr. Collins couldn’t conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine’s being relatively displeased by her staying at dwelling.

    Chapter 34

    When they have been gone, Elizabeth, as if meaning to exasperate herself as a lot as doable in opposition to Mr. Darcy, selected for her employment the examination of all of the letters which Jane had written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no precise criticism, nor was there any revival of previous occurrences, or any communication of current struggling. But in all, and in nearly each line of every, there was a need of that cheerfulness which had been used to characterise her fashion, and which, continuing from the serenity of a thoughts comfy with itself and kindly disposed in direction of everybody, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth seen each sentence conveying the thought of uneasiness, with an consideration which it had hardly acquired on the primary perusal. Mr. Darcy’s shameful boast of what distress he had been capable of inflict, gave her a keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some comfort to assume that his go to to Rosings was to finish on the day after the following—and, a nonetheless better, that in lower than a fortnight she ought to herself be with Jane once more, and enabled to contribute to the restoration of her spirits, by all that affection may do.

    She couldn’t consider Darcy’s leaving Kent with out remembering that his cousin was to go along with him; however Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions in any respect, and agreeable as he was, she didn’t imply to be sad about him.

    While settling this level, she was instantly roused by the sound of the door-bell, and her spirits have been slightly fluttered by the thought of its being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had as soon as earlier than referred to as late within the night, and may now come to inquire significantly after her. But this concept was quickly banished, and her spirits have been very otherwise affected, when, to her utter amazement, she noticed Mr. Darcy stroll into the room. In an hurried method he instantly started an inquiry after her well being, imputing his go to to a want of listening to that she have been higher. She answered him with chilly civility. He sat down for a number of moments, after which getting up, walked concerning the room. Elizabeth was shocked, however mentioned not a phrase. After a silence of a number of minutes, he got here in direction of her in an agitated method, and thus started:

    “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

    Elizabeth’s astonishment was past expression. She stared, colored, doubted, and was silent. This he thought of ample encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had lengthy felt for her, instantly adopted. He spoke nicely; however there have been emotions in addition to these of the guts to be detailed; and he was no more eloquent as regards to tenderness than of delight. His sense of her inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the household obstacles which had all the time against inclination, have been dwelt on with a heat which appeared as a result of consequence he was wounding, however was impossible to advocate his go well with.

    In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she couldn’t be insensible to the praise of such a person’s affection, and although her intentions didn’t fluctuate for an instantaneous, she was at first sorry for the ache he was to obtain; until, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she misplaced all compassion in anger. She tried, nevertheless, to compose herself to reply him with endurance, when he ought to have performed. He concluded with representing to her the power of that attachment which, despite all his endeavours, he had discovered not possible to overcome; and with expressing his hope that it could now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. As he mentioned this, she may simply see that he had little question of a beneficial reply. He spoke of apprehension and anxiousness, however his countenance expressed actual safety. Such a circumstance may solely exasperate farther, and, when he ceased, the color rose into her cheeks, and he or she mentioned:

    “In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot—I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to anyone. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

    Mr. Darcy, who was leaning in opposition to the mantelpiece together with his eyes fastened on her face, appeared to catch her phrases with no much less resentment than shock. His complexion grew to become pale with anger, and the disturbance of his thoughts was seen in each function. He was struggling for the looks of composure, and wouldn’t open his lips until he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s emotions dreadful. At size, with a voice of compelled calmness, he mentioned:

    “And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”

    “I might as well inquire,” replied she, “why with so evident a desire of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my feelings decided against you—had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”

    As she pronounced these phrases, Mr. Darcy modified color; however the emotion was quick, and he listened with out making an attempt to interrupt her whereas she continued:

    “I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny, that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other—of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, and the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”

    She paused, and noticed with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of regret. He even checked out her with a smile of affected incredulity.

    “Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.

    With assumed tranquillity he then replied: “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.”

    Elizabeth disdained the looks of noticing this civil reflection, however its which means didn’t escape, nor was it prone to conciliate her.

    “But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation can you here impose upon others?”

    “You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” mentioned Darcy, in a much less tranquil tone, and with a heightened color.

    “Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?”

    “His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy contemptuously; “yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed.”

    “And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth with vitality. “You have reduced him to his present state of poverty—comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the best years of his life of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortune with contempt and ridicule.”

    “And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with fast steps throughout the room, “is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps,” added he, stopping in his stroll, and turning in direction of her, “these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I, with greater policy, concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination; by reason, by reflection, by everything. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?—to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”

    Elizabeth felt herself rising extra offended each second; but she tried to the utmost to talk with composure when she mentioned:

    “You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.”

    She noticed him begin at this, however he mentioned nothing, and he or she continued:

    “You could not have made the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”

    Again his astonishment was apparent; and he checked out her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on:

    “From the very beginning—from the first moment, I may almost say—of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

    “You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

    And with these phrases he rapidly left the room, and Elizabeth heard him the following second open the entrance door and stop the home.

    The tumult of her thoughts, was now painfully nice. She knew not tips on how to assist herself, and from precise weak spot sat down and cried for half-an-hour. Her astonishment, as she mirrored on what had handed, was elevated by each evaluate of it. That she ought to obtain a suggestion of marriage from Mr. Darcy! That he ought to have been in love along with her for therefore many months! So a lot in love as to want to marry her despite all of the objections which had made him forestall his good friend’s marrying her sister, and which should seem not less than with equal drive in his personal case—was nearly unimaginable! It was gratifying to have impressed unconsciously so robust an affection. But his delight, his abominable delight—his shameless avowal of what he had performed with respect to Jane—his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, although he couldn’t justify it, and the unfeeling method by which he had talked about Mr. Wickham, his cruelty in direction of whom he had not tried to disclaim, quickly overcame the pity which the consideration of his attachment had for a second excited. She continued in very agitated reflections until the sound of Lady Catherine’s carriage made her really feel how unequal she was to come across Charlotte’s remark, and hurried her away to her room.

    Chapter 35

    Elizabeth awoke the following morning to the identical ideas and meditations which had at size closed her eyes. She couldn’t but recuperate from the shock of what had occurred; it was not possible to consider anything; and, completely indisposed for employment, she resolved, quickly after breakfast, to indulge herself in air and train. She was continuing on to her favorite stroll, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy’s generally coming there stopped her, and as a substitute of coming into the park, she turned up the lane, which led farther from the turnpike-road. The park paling was nonetheless the boundary on one facet, and he or she quickly handed one of many gates into the bottom.

    After strolling two or 3 times alongside that a part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to cease on the gates and look into the park. The 5 weeks which she had now handed in Kent had made a terrific distinction within the nation, and on daily basis was including to the verdure of the early timber. She was on the purpose of continuous her stroll, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman throughout the kind of grove which edged the park; he was transferring that means; and, afraid of its being Mr. Darcy, she was straight retreating. But the one who superior was now close to sufficient to see her, and stepping ahead with eagerness, pronounced her identify. She had turned away; however on listening to herself referred to as, although in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved once more in direction of the gate. He had by that point reached it additionally, and, holding out a letter, which she instinctively took, mentioned, with a glance of haughty composure, “I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?” And then, with a slight bow, turned once more into the plantation, and was quickly out of sight.

    With no expectation of enjoyment, however with the strongest curiosity, Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her nonetheless growing marvel, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter-paper, written fairly via, in a really shut hand. The envelope itself was likewise full. Pursuing her means alongside the lane, she then started it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o’clock within the morning, and was as follows:—

    “Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of these sentiments or renewal of these gives which have been final night time so disgusting to you. I write with none intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on needs which, for the happiness of each, can’t be too quickly forgotten; and the hassle which the formation and the perusal of this letter should event, ought to have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and browse. You should, subsequently, pardon the liberty with which I demand your consideration; your emotions, I do know, will bestow it unwillingly, however I demand it of your justice.

    “Two offenses of a really totally different nature, and in no way of equal magnitude, you final night time laid to my cost. The first talked about was, that, whatever the sentiments of both, I had indifferent Mr. Bingley out of your sister, and the opposite, that I had, in defiance of assorted claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the speedy prosperity and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. Wilfully and wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged favorite of my father, a younger man who had scarcely some other dependence than on our patronage, and who had been introduced as much as count on its exertion, can be a depravity, to which the separation of two younger individuals, whose affection could possibly be the expansion of only some weeks, may bear no comparability. But from the severity of that blame which was final night time so liberally bestowed, respecting every circumstance, I shall hope to be sooner or later secured, when the next account of my actions and their motives has been learn. If, within the rationalization of them, which is because of myself, I’m below the need of relating emotions which can be offensive to yours, I can solely say that I’m sorry. The necessity have to be obeyed, and additional apology can be absurd.

    “I had not been lengthy in Hertfordshire, earlier than I noticed, in widespread with others, that Bingley most popular your elder sister to some other younger girl within the nation. But it was not until the night of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a severe attachment. I had typically seen him in love earlier than. At that ball, whereas I had the honour of dancing with you, I used to be first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas’s unintentional data, that Bingley’s attentions to your sister had given rise to a normal expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a sure occasion, of which the time alone could possibly be undecided. From that second I noticed my good friend’s behaviour attentively; and I may then understand that his partiality for Miss Bennet was past what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I additionally watched. Her look and manners have been open, cheerful, and fascinating as ever, however with none symptom of weird regard, and I remained satisfied from the night’s scrutiny, that although she acquired his attentions with pleasure, she didn’t invite them by any participation of sentiment. If you haven’t been mistaken right here, I should have been in error. Your superior information of your sister should make the latter possible. If it’s so, if I’ve been misled by such error to inflict ache on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to say, that the serenity of your sister’s countenance and air was reminiscent of may need given probably the most acute observer a conviction that, nevertheless amiable her mood, her coronary heart was not prone to be simply touched. That I used to be desirous of believing her detached is definite—however I’ll enterprise to say that my investigation and choices are usually not often influenced by my hopes or fears. I didn’t consider her to be detached as a result of I wanted it; I believed it on neutral conviction, as actually as I wanted it in motive. My objections to the wedding weren’t merely these which I final night time acknowledged to have the utmost drive of ardour to place apart, in my very own case; the need of connection couldn’t be so nice an evil to my good friend as to me. But there have been different causes of repugnance; causes which, although nonetheless current, and current to an equal diploma in each situations, I had myself endeavoured to overlook, as a result of they weren’t instantly earlier than me. These causes have to be acknowledged, although briefly. The state of affairs of your mom’s household, although objectionable, was nothing compared to that complete need of propriety so continuously, so nearly uniformly betrayed by herself, by your three youthful sisters, and infrequently even by your father. Pardon me. It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this illustration of them, let it offer you comfort to contemplate that, to have performed yourselves in order to keep away from any share of the like censure, is reward no much less usually bestowed on you and your elder sister, than it’s honourable to the sense and disposition of each. I’ll solely say farther that from what handed that night, my opinion of all events was confirmed, and each inducement heightened which may have led me earlier than, to protect my good friend from what I esteemed a most sad connection. He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I’m sure, keep in mind, with the design of quickly returning.

    “The half which I acted is now to be defined. His sisters’ uneasiness had been equally excited with my very own; our coincidence of feeling was quickly found, and, alike smart that no time was to be misplaced in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on becoming a member of him straight in London. We accordingly went—and there I readily engaged within the workplace of mentioning to my good friend the sure evils of such a selection. I described, and enforced them earnestly. But, nevertheless this remonstrance may need staggered or delayed his dedication, I don’t suppose that it could in the end have prevented the wedding, had it not been seconded by the reassurance that I hesitated not in giving, of your sister’s indifference. He had earlier than believed her to return his affection with honest, if not with equal regard. But Bingley has nice pure modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgement than on his personal. To persuade him, subsequently, that he had deceived himself, was no very troublesome level. To persuade him in opposition to returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a second. I can’t blame myself for having performed thus a lot. There is however one a part of my conduct in the entire affair on which I don’t mirror with satisfaction; it’s that I condescended to undertake the measures of artwork as far as to hide from him your sister’s being on the town. I knew it myself, because it was recognized to Miss Bingley; however her brother is even but unaware of it. That they could have met with out in poor health consequence is probably possible; however his regard didn’t seem to me sufficient extinguished for him to see her with out some hazard. Perhaps this concealment, this disguise was beneath me; it’s performed, nevertheless, and it was performed for one of the best. On this topic I’ve nothing extra to say, no different apology to supply. If I’ve wounded your sister’s emotions, it was unknowingly performed and although the motives which ruled me could to you very naturally seem inadequate, I’ve not but learnt to sentence them.

    “With respect to that different, extra weighty accusation, of getting injured Mr. Wickham, I can solely refute it by laying earlier than you the entire of his reference to my household. Of what he has significantly accused me I’m ignorant; however of the reality of what I shall relate, I can summon a couple of witness of undoubted veracity.

    “Mr. Wickham is the son of a really respectable man, who had for a few years the administration of all of the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct within the discharge of his belief naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was subsequently liberally bestowed. My father supported him in school, and afterwards at Cambridge—most necessary help, as his personal father, all the time poor from the extravagance of his spouse, would have been unable to offer him a gentleman’s schooling. My father was not solely keen on this younger man’s society, whose manners have been all the time participating; he had additionally the best opinion of him, and hoping the church can be his occupation, meant to offer for him in it. As for myself, it’s many, a few years since I first started to consider him in a really totally different method. The vicious propensities—the need of precept, which he was cautious to protect from the information of his finest good friend, couldn’t escape the remark of a younger man of almost the identical age with himself, and who had alternatives of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy couldn’t have. Here once more I shall offer you ache—to what diploma you solely can inform. But no matter could be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not forestall me from unfolding his actual character—it provides even one other motive.

    “My wonderful father died about 5 years in the past; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the final so regular, that in his will he significantly really useful it to me, to advertise his development in one of the best method that his occupation may enable—and if he took orders, desired {that a} beneficial household residing may be his as quickly because it grew to become vacant. There was additionally a legacy of 1 thousand kilos. His personal father didn’t lengthy survive mine, and inside half a 12 months from these occasions, Mr. Wickham wrote to tell me that, having lastly resolved in opposition to taking orders, he hoped I shouldn’t assume it unreasonable for him to count on some extra speedy pecuniary benefit, in lieu of the preferment, by which he couldn’t be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of learning legislation, and I have to be conscious that the curiosity of 1 thousand kilos can be a really inadequate assist therein. I relatively wished, than believed him to be honest; however, at any charge, was completely able to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought to not be a priest; the enterprise was subsequently quickly settled—he resigned all declare to help within the church, have been it doable that he may ever be in a state of affairs to obtain it, and accepted in return three thousand kilos. All connection between us appeared now dissolved. I assumed too in poor health of him to ask him to Pemberley, or admit his society on the town. In city I consider he mainly lived, however his learning the legislation was a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a lifetime of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; however on the decease of the incumbent of the residing which had been designed for him, he utilized to me once more by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no issue in believing it, have been exceedingly dangerous. He had discovered the legislation a most unprofitable examine, and was now completely resolved on being ordained, if I’d current him to the residing in query—of which he trusted there could possibly be little doubt, as he was nicely assured that I had no different individual to offer for, and I couldn’t have forgotten my revered father’s intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to adjust to this entreaty, or for resisting each repetition to it. His resentment was in proportion to the misery of his circumstances—and he was likely as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. After this era each look of acquaintance was dropped. How he lived I do know not. But final summer time he was once more most painfully obtruded on my discover.

    “I need to now point out a circumstance which I’d want to overlook myself, and which no obligation lower than the current ought to induce me to unfold to any human being. Having mentioned thus a lot, I really feel little question of your secrecy. My sister, who’s greater than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mom’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a 12 months in the past, she was taken from college, and an institution fashioned for her in London; and final summer time she went with the girl who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither additionally went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a previous acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we have been most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and assist, he to this point really useful himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate coronary heart retained a powerful impression of his kindness to her as a toddler, that she was persuaded to consider herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then however fifteen, which have to be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I’m joyful so as to add, that I owed the information of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two earlier than the meant elopement, after which Georgiana, unable to assist the thought of grieving and offending a brother whom she nearly seemed as much as as a father, acknowledged the entire to me. You could think about what I felt and the way I acted. Regard for my sister’s credit score and emotions prevented any public publicity; however I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place instantly, and Mrs. Younge was after all faraway from her cost. Mr. Wickham’s chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty thousand kilos; however I can’t assist supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a powerful inducement. His revenge would have been full certainly.

    “This, madam, is a devoted narrative of each occasion by which we now have been involved collectively; and if you don’t completely reject it as false, you’ll, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty in direction of Mr. Wickham. I do know not in what method, below what type of falsehood he had imposed on you; however his success isn’t maybe to be questioned at. Ignorant as you beforehand have been of every part regarding both, detection couldn’t be in your energy, and suspicion actually not in your inclination.

    “You could presumably marvel why all this was not advised you final night time; however I used to be not then grasp sufficient of myself to know what may or must be revealed. For the reality of every part right here associated, I can attraction extra significantly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who, from our close to relationship and fixed intimacy, and, nonetheless extra, as one of many executors of my father’s will, has been unavoidably acquainted with each explicit of those transactions. If your abhorrence of me ought to make my assertions worthless, you can’t be prevented by the identical trigger from confiding in my cousin; and that there could also be the potential for consulting him, I shall endeavour to seek out some alternative of placing this letter in your palms in the middle of the morning. I’ll solely add, God bless you.

    “FITZWILLIAM DARCY”

    Chapter 36

    If Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, didn’t count on it to include a renewal of his gives, she had fashioned no expectation in any respect of its contents. But reminiscent of they have been, it could be supposed how eagerly she went via them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her emotions as she learn have been scarcely to be outlined. With amazement did she first perceive that he believed any apology to be in his energy; and steadfastly was she persuaded, that he may don’t have any rationalization to offer, which a simply sense of disgrace wouldn’t conceal. With a powerful prejudice in opposition to every part he may say, she started his account of what had occurred at Netherfield. She learn with an eagerness which hardly left her energy of comprehension, and from impatience of figuring out what the following sentence may carry, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one earlier than her eyes. His perception of her sister’s insensibility she immediately resolved to be false; and his account of the true, the worst objections to the match, made her too offended to have any want of doing him justice. He expressed no remorse for what he had performed which glad her; his fashion was not penitent, however haughty. It was all delight and insolence.

    But when this topic was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham—when she learn with considerably clearer consideration a relation of occasions which, if true, should overthrow each cherished opinion of his value, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his personal historical past of himself—her emotions have been but extra acutely painful and tougher of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it solely, repeatedly exclaiming, “This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!”—and when she had gone via the entire letter, although scarcely figuring out something of the final web page or two, put it rapidly away, protesting that she wouldn’t regard it, that she would by no means look in it once more.

    In this perturbed way of thinking, with ideas that might relaxation on nothing, she walked on; however it could not do; in half a minute the letter was unfolded once more, and amassing herself in addition to she may, she once more started the mortifying perusal of all that associated to Wickham, and commanded herself as far as to look at the which means of each sentence. The account of his reference to the Pemberley household was precisely what he had associated himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, although she had not earlier than recognized its extent, agreed equally nicely together with his personal phrases. So far every recital confirmed the opposite; however when she got here to the desire, the distinction was nice. What Wickham had mentioned of the residing was contemporary in her reminiscence, and as she recalled his very phrases, it was not possible to not really feel that there was gross duplicity on one facet or the opposite; and, for a number of moments, she flattered herself that her needs didn’t err. But when she learn and re-read with the closest consideration, the particulars instantly following of Wickham’s resigning all pretensions to the residing, of his receiving in lieu so appreciable a sum as three thousand kilos, once more was she compelled to hesitate. She put down the letter, weighed each circumstance with what she meant to be impartiality—deliberated on the chance of every assertion—however with little success. On each side it was solely assertion. Again she learn on; however each line proved extra clearly that the affair, which she had believed it not possible that any contrivance may so signify as to render Mr. Darcy’s conduct in it lower than notorious, was able to a flip which should make him solely innocent all through the entire.

    The extravagance and normal profligacy which he scrupled to not lay at Mr. Wickham’s cost, exceedingly shocked her; the extra so, as she may carry no proof of its injustice. She had by no means heard of him earlier than his entrance into the ——shire Militia, by which he had engaged on the persuasion of the younger man who, on assembly him unintentionally on the town, had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former lifestyle nothing had been recognized in Hertfordshire however what he advised himself. As to his actual character, had data been in her energy, she had by no means felt a want of inquiring. His countenance, voice, and method had established him directly within the possession of each advantage. She tried to remember some occasion of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that may rescue him from the assaults of Mr. Darcy; or not less than, by the predominance of advantage, atone for these informal errors below which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy had described because the idleness and vice of a few years’ continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She may see him immediately earlier than her, in each attraction of air and deal with; however she may keep in mind no extra substantial good than the overall approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him within the mess. After pausing on this level a substantial whereas, she as soon as extra continued to learn. But, alas! the story which adopted, of his designs on Miss Darcy, acquired some affirmation from what had handed between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself solely the morning earlier than; and finally she was referred for the reality of each explicit to Colonel Fitzwilliam himself—from whom she had beforehand acquired the knowledge of his close to concern in all his cousin’s affairs, and whose character she had no motive to query. At one time she had nearly resolved on making use of to him, however the thought was checked by the awkwardness of the appliance, and at size wholly banished by the conviction that Mr. Darcy would by no means have hazarded such a proposal, if he had not been nicely assured of his cousin’s corroboration.

    She completely remembered every part that had handed in dialog between Wickham and herself, of their first night at Mr. Phillips’s. Many of his expressions have been nonetheless contemporary in her reminiscence. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and questioned it had escaped her earlier than. She noticed the indelicacy of placing himself ahead as he had performed, and the inconsistency of his professions together with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of getting no concern of seeing Mr. Darcy—that Mr. Darcy may depart the nation, however that he ought to stand his floor; but he had averted the Netherfield ball the very subsequent week. She remembered additionally that, until the Netherfield household had quitted the nation, he had advised his story to nobody however herself; however that after their elimination it had been all over the place mentioned; that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy’s character, although he had assured her that respect for the daddy would all the time forestall his exposing the son.

    How otherwise did every part now seem by which he was involved! His attentions to Miss King have been now the consequence of views solely and hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved not the moderation of his needs, however his eagerness to know at something. His behaviour to herself may now have had no tolerable motive; he had both been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his self-importance by encouraging the desire which she believed she had most incautiously proven. Every lingering battle in his favour grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Mr. Darcy, she couldn’t however enable that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had way back asserted his blamelessness within the affair; that proud and repulsive as have been his manners, she had by no means, in the entire course of their acquaintance—an acquaintance which had latterly introduced them a lot collectively, and given her a kind of intimacy together with his methods—seen something that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust—something that spoke him of irreligious or immoral habits; that amongst his personal connections he was esteemed and valued—that even Wickham had allowed him benefit as a brother, and that she had typically heard him converse so affectionately of his sister as to show him able to some amiable feeling; that had his actions been what Mr. Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of every part proper may hardly have been hid from the world; and that friendship between an individual able to it, and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible.

    She grew completely ashamed of herself. Of neither Darcy nor Wickham may she assume with out feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

    “How despicably I have acted!” she cried; “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blameable mistrust! How humiliating is this discovery! Yet, how just a humiliation! Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind! But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”

    From herself to Jane—from Jane to Bingley, her ideas have been in a line which quickly dropped at her recollection that Mr. Darcy’s rationalization there had appeared very inadequate, and he or she learn it once more. Widely totally different was the impact of a second perusal. How may she deny that credit score to his assertions in a single occasion, which she had been obliged to offer within the different? He declared himself to be completely unsuspicious of her sister’s attachment; and he or she couldn’t assist remembering what Charlotte’s opinion had all the time been. Neither may she deny the justice of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s emotions, although fervent, have been little displayed, and that there was a continuing complacency in her air and method not typically united with nice sensibility.

    When she got here to that a part of the letter by which her household have been talked about by way of such mortifying, but merited reproach, her sense of disgrace was extreme. The justice of the cost struck her too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he significantly alluded as having handed on the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, couldn’t have made a stronger impression on his thoughts than on hers.

    The praise to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, however it couldn’t console her for the contempt which had thus been self-attracted by the remainder of her household; and as she thought of that Jane’s disappointment had in actual fact been the work of her nearest relations, and mirrored how materially the credit score of each have to be damage by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed past something she had ever recognized earlier than.

    After wandering alongside the lane for 2 hours, giving method to each number of thought—re-considering occasions, figuring out chances, and reconciling herself, in addition to she may, to a change so sudden and so necessary, fatigue, and a recollection of her lengthy absence, made her at size return dwelling; and he or she entered the home with the want of showing cheerful as normal, and the decision of repressing such reflections as should make her unfit for dialog.

    She was instantly advised that the 2 gents from Rosings had every referred to as throughout her absence; Mr. Darcy, just for a couple of minutes, to take depart—however that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them not less than an hour, hoping for her return, and nearly resolving to stroll after her until she could possibly be discovered. Elizabeth may however simply have an effect on concern in lacking him; she actually rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was not an object; she may assume solely of her letter.

    Chapter 37

    The two gents left Rosings the following morning, and Mr. Collins having been in ready close to the lodges, to make them his parting obeisance, was capable of carry dwelling the pleasing intelligence, of their showing in superb well being, and in as tolerable spirits as could possibly be anticipated, after the melancholy scene so recently gone via at Rosings. To Rosings he then hastened, to console Lady Catherine and her daughter; and on his return introduced again, with nice satisfaction, a message from her ladyship, importing that she felt herself so boring as to make her very desirous of getting all of them to dine along with her.

    Elizabeth couldn’t see Lady Catherine with out recollecting that, had she chosen it, she may by this time have been introduced to her as her future niece; nor may she assume, and not using a smile, of what her ladyship’s indignation would have been. “What would she have said? how would she have behaved?” have been questions with which she amused herself.

    Their first topic was the diminution of the Rosings get together. “I assure you, I feel it exceedingly,” mentioned Lady Catherine; “I believe no one feels the loss of friends so much as I do. But I am particularly attached to these young men, and know them to be so much attached to me! They were excessively sorry to go! But so they always are. The dear Colonel rallied his spirits tolerably till just at last; but Darcy seemed to feel it most acutely, more, I think, than last year. His attachment to Rosings certainly increases.”

    Mr. Collins had a praise, and an allusion to throw in right here, which have been kindly smiled on by the mom and daughter.

    Lady Catherine noticed, after dinner, that Miss Bennet appeared out of spirits, and instantly accounting for it by herself, by supposing that she didn’t prefer to go dwelling once more so quickly, she added:

    “But if that is the case, you must write to your mother and beg that you may stay a little longer. Mrs. Collins will be very glad of your company, I am sure.”

    “I am much obliged to your ladyship for your kind invitation,” replied Elizabeth, “but it is not in my power to accept it. I must be in town next Saturday.”

    “Why, at that rate, you will have been here only six weeks. I expected you to stay two months. I told Mrs. Collins so before you came. There can be no occasion for your going so soon. Mrs. Bennet could certainly spare you for another fortnight.”

    “But my father cannot. He wrote last week to hurry my return.”

    “Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as Dawson does not object to the barouche-box, there will be very good room for one of you—and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large.”

    “You are all kindness, madam; but I believe we must abide by our original plan.”

    Lady Catherine appeared resigned. “Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort of thing. Young women should always be properly guarded and attended, according to their situation in life. When my niece Georgiana went to Ramsgate last summer, I made a point of her having two men-servants go with her. Miss Darcy, the daughter of Mr. Darcy, of Pemberley, and Lady Anne, could not have appeared with propriety in a different manner. I am excessively attentive to all those things. You must send John with the young ladies, Mrs. Collins. I am glad it occurred to me to mention it; for it would really be discreditable to you to let them go alone.”

    “My uncle is to send a servant for us.”

    “Oh! Your uncle! He keeps a man-servant, does he? I am very glad you have somebody who thinks of these things. Where shall you change horses? Oh! Bromley, of course. If you mention my name at the Bell, you will be attended to.”

    Lady Catherine had many different inquiries to ask respecting their journey, and as she didn’t reply all of them herself, consideration was essential, which Elizabeth believed to be fortunate for her; or, with a thoughts so occupied, she may need forgotten the place she was. Reflection have to be reserved for solitary hours; every time she was alone, she gave method to it as the best reduction; and never a day glided by and not using a solitary stroll, by which she may take pleasure in all of the delight of disagreeable recollections.

    Mr. Darcy’s letter she was in a good means of quickly figuring out by coronary heart. She studied each sentence; and her emotions in direction of its author have been at instances extensively totally different. When she remembered the fashion of his deal with, she was nonetheless stuffed with indignation; however when she thought of how unjustly she had condemned and upbraided him, her anger was turned in opposition to herself; and his upset emotions grew to become the item of compassion. His attachment excited gratitude, his normal character respect; however she couldn’t approve him; nor may she for a second repent her refusal, or really feel the slightest inclination ever to see him once more. In her personal previous behaviour, there was a continuing supply of vexation and remorse; and within the sad defects of her household, a topic of but heavier chagrin. They have been hopeless of treatment. Her father, contented with laughing at them, would by no means exert himself to restrain the wild giddiness of his youngest daughters; and her mom, with manners so removed from proper herself, was solely insensible of the evil. Elizabeth had continuously united with Jane in an endeavour to verify the imprudence of Catherine and Lydia; however whereas they have been supported by their mom’s indulgence, what likelihood may there be of enchancment? Catherine, weak-spirited, irritable, and fully below Lydia’s steerage, had been all the time affronted by their recommendation; and Lydia, self-willed and careless, would scarcely give them a listening to. They have been ignorant, idle, and useless. While there was an officer in Meryton, they might flirt with him; and whereas Meryton was inside a stroll of Longbourn, they might be going there endlessly.

    Anxiety on Jane’s behalf was one other prevailing concern; and Mr. Darcy’s rationalization, by restoring Bingley to all her former good opinion, heightened the sense of what Jane had misplaced. His affection was proved to have been honest, and his conduct cleared of all blame, until any may connect to the implicitness of his confidence in his good friend. How grievous then was the thought that, of a state of affairs so fascinating in each respect, so replete with benefit, so promising for happiness, Jane had been disadvantaged, by the folly and indecorum of her family!

    When to those recollections was added the event of Wickham’s character, it could be simply believed that the joyful spirits which had seldom been depressed earlier than, have been now a lot affected as to make it nearly not possible for her to seem tolerably cheerful.

    Their engagements at Rosings have been as frequent over the past week of her keep as that they had been at first. The final night was spent there; and her ladyship once more inquired minutely into the particulars of their journey, gave them instructions as to one of the best technique of packing, and was so pressing on the need of inserting robes in the one proper means, that Maria thought herself obliged, on her return, to undo all of the work of the morning, and pack her trunk afresh.

    When they parted, Lady Catherine, with nice condescension, wished them journey, and invited them to return to Hunsford once more subsequent 12 months; and Miss de Bourgh exerted herself as far as to curtsey and maintain out her hand to each.

    Chapter 38

    On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a couple of minutes earlier than the others appeared; and he took the chance of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably essential.

    “I know not, Miss Elizabeth,” mentioned he, “whether Mrs. Collins has yet expressed her sense of your kindness in coming to us; but I am very certain you will not leave the house without receiving her thanks for it. The favour of your company has been much felt, I assure you. We know how little there is to tempt anyone to our humble abode. Our plain manner of living, our small rooms and few domestics, and the little we see of the world, must make Hunsford extremely dull to a young lady like yourself; but I hope you will believe us grateful for the condescension, and that we have done everything in our power to prevent your spending your time unpleasantly.”

    Elizabeth was keen along with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had spent six weeks with nice enjoyment; and the pleasure of being with Charlotte, and the sort attentions she had acquired, should make her really feel the obliged. Mr. Collins was gratified, and with a extra smiling solemnity replied:

    “It gives me great pleasure to hear that you have passed your time not disagreeably. We have certainly done our best; and most fortunately having it in our power to introduce you to very superior society, and, from our connection with Rosings, the frequent means of varying the humble home scene, I think we may flatter ourselves that your Hunsford visit cannot have been entirely irksome. Our situation with regard to Lady Catherine’s family is indeed the sort of extraordinary advantage and blessing which few can boast. You see on what a footing we are. You see how continually we are engaged there. In truth I must acknowledge that, with all the disadvantages of this humble parsonage, I should not think anyone abiding in it an object of compassion, while they are sharers of our intimacy at Rosings.”

    Words have been inadequate for the elevation of his emotions; and he was obliged to stroll concerning the room, whereas Elizabeth tried to unite civility and fact in a number of quick sentences.

    “You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself at least that you will be able to do so. Lady Catherine’s great attentions to Mrs. Collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunate—but on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other.”

    Elizabeth may safely say that it was a terrific happiness the place that was the case, and with equal sincerity may add, that she firmly believed and rejoiced in his home comforts. She was not sorry, nevertheless, to have the recital of them interrupted by the girl from whom they sprang. Poor Charlotte! it was melancholy to depart her to such society! But she had chosen it along with her eyes open; and although evidently regretting that her guests have been to go, she didn’t appear to ask for compassion. Her dwelling and her housekeeping, her parish and her poultry, and all their dependent considerations, had not but misplaced their charms.

    At size the chaise arrived, the trunks have been mounted on, the parcels positioned inside, and it was pronounced to be prepared. After an affectionate parting between the chums, Elizabeth was attended to the carriage by Mr. Collins, and as they walked down the backyard he was commissioning her together with his finest respects to all her household, not forgetting his thanks for the kindness he had acquired at Longbourn within the winter, and his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, although unknown. He then handed her in, Maria adopted, and the door was on the purpose of being closed, when he instantly reminded them, with some consternation, that that they had hitherto forgotten to depart any message for the women at Rosings.

    “But,” he added, “you will of course wish to have your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here.”

    Elizabeth made no objection; the door was then allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off.

    “Good gracious!” cried Maria, after a couple of minutes’ silence, “it seems but a day or two since we first came! and yet how many things have happened!”

    “A great many indeed,” mentioned her companion with a sigh.

    “We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! How much I shall have to tell!”

    Elizabeth added privately, “And how much I shall have to conceal!”

    Their journey was carried out with out a lot dialog, or any alarm; and inside 4 hours of their leaving Hunsford they reached Mr. Gardiner’s home, the place they have been to stay a number of days.

    Jane seemed nicely, and Elizabeth had little alternative of learning her spirits, amidst the varied engagements which the kindness of her aunt had reserved for them. But Jane was to go dwelling along with her, and at Longbourn there can be leisure sufficient for remark.

    It was not with out an effort, in the meantime, that she may wait even for Longbourn, earlier than she advised her sister of Mr. Darcy’s proposals. To know that she had the facility of showing what would so exceedingly astonish Jane, and should, on the identical time, so extremely gratify no matter of her personal self-importance she had not but been capable of motive away, was such a temptation to openness as nothing may have conquered however the state of indecision by which she remained as to the extent of what she ought to talk; and her concern, if she as soon as entered on the topic, of being hurried into repeating one thing of Bingley which could solely grieve her sister additional.

    Chapter 39

    It was the second week in May, by which the three younger girls set out collectively from Gracechurch Street for the city of ——, in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew close to the appointed inn the place Mr. Bennet’s carriage was to fulfill them, they shortly perceived, in token of the coachman’s punctuality, each Kitty and Lydia looking of a dining-room up stairs. These two women had been above an hour within the place, fortunately employed in visiting an reverse milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and dressing a salad and cucumber.

    After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a desk set out with such chilly meat as an inn larder often affords, exclaiming, “Is not this nice? Is not this an agreeable surprise?”

    “And we mean to treat you all,” added Lydia, “but you must lend us the money, for we have just spent ours at the shop out there.” Then, displaying her purchases—”Look here, I have bought this bonnet. I do not think it is very pretty; but I thought I might as well buy it as not. I shall pull it to pieces as soon as I get home, and see if I can make it up any better.”

    And when her sisters abused it as ugly, she added, with excellent unconcern, “Oh! but there were two or three much uglier in the shop; and when I have bought some prettier-coloured satin to trim it with fresh, I think it will be very tolerable. Besides, it will not much signify what one wears this summer, after the ——shire have left Meryton, and they are going in a fortnight.”

    “Are they indeed!” cried Elizabeth, with the best satisfaction.

    “They are going to be encamped near Brighton; and I do so want papa to take us all there for the summer! It would be such a delicious scheme; and I dare say would hardly cost anything at all. Mamma would like to go too of all things! Only think what a miserable summer else we shall have!”

    “Yes,” thought Elizabeth, “that would be a delightful scheme indeed, and completely do for us at once. Good Heaven! Brighton, and a whole campful of soldiers, to us, who have been overset already by one poor regiment of militia, and the monthly balls of Meryton!”

    “Now I have got some news for you,” mentioned Lydia, as they sat down at desk. “What do you think? It is excellent news—capital news—and about a certain person we all like!”

    Jane and Elizabeth checked out one another, and the waiter was advised he needn’t keep. Lydia laughed, and mentioned:

    “Aye, that is just like your formality and discretion. You thought the waiter must not hear, as if he cared! I dare say he often hears worse things said than I am going to say. But he is an ugly fellow! I am glad he is gone. I never saw such a long chin in my life. Well, but now for my news; it is about dear Wickham; too good for the waiter, is it not? There is no danger of Wickham’s marrying Mary King. There’s for you! She is gone down to her uncle at Liverpool: gone to stay. Wickham is safe.”

    “And Mary King is safe!” added Elizabeth; “safe from a connection imprudent as to fortune.”

    “She is a great fool for going away, if she liked him.”

    “But I hope there is no strong attachment on either side,” mentioned Jane.

    “I am sure there is not on his. I will answer for it, he never cared three straws about her—who could about such a nasty little freckled thing?”

    Elizabeth was shocked to assume that, nevertheless incapable of such coarseness of expression herself, the coarseness of the sentiment was little apart from her personal breast had harboured and fancied liberal!

    As quickly as all had ate, and the elder ones paid, the carriage was ordered; and after some contrivance, the entire get together, with all their packing containers, work-bags, and parcels, and the unwelcome addition of Kitty’s and Lydia’s purchases, have been seated in it.

    “How nicely we are all crammed in,” cried Lydia. “I am glad I bought my bonnet, if it is only for the fun of having another bandbox! Well, now let us be quite comfortable and snug, and talk and laugh all the way home. And in the first place, let us hear what has happened to you all since you went away. Have you seen any pleasant men? Have you had any flirting? I was in great hopes that one of you would have got a husband before you came back. Jane will be quite an old maid soon, I declare. She is almost three-and-twenty! Lord, how ashamed I should be of not being married before three-and-twenty! My aunt Phillips wants you so to get husbands, you can’t think. She says Lizzy had better have taken Mr. Collins; but I do not think there would have been any fun in it. Lord! how I should like to be married before any of you; and then I would chaperon you about to all the balls. Dear me! we had such a good piece of fun the other day at Colonel Forster’s. Kitty and me were to spend the day there, and Mrs. Forster promised to have a little dance in the evening; (by the bye, Mrs. Forster and me are such friends!) and so she asked the two Harringtons to come, but Harriet was ill, and so Pen was forced to come by herself; and then, what do you think we did? We dressed up Chamberlayne in woman’s clothes on purpose to pass for a lady, only think what fun! Not a soul knew of it, but Colonel and Mrs. Forster, and Kitty and me, except my aunt, for we were forced to borrow one of her gowns; and you cannot imagine how well he looked! When Denny, and Wickham, and Pratt, and two or three more of the men came in, they did not know him in the least. Lord! how I laughed! and so did Mrs. Forster. I thought I should have died. And that made the men suspect something, and then they soon found out what was the matter.”

    With such sorts of histories of their events and good jokes, did Lydia, assisted by Kitty’s hints and additions, endeavour to amuse her companions all the way in which to Longbourn. Elizabeth listened as little as she may, however there was no escaping the frequent point out of Wickham’s identify.

    Their reception at dwelling was most type. Mrs. Bennet rejoiced to see Jane in undiminished magnificence; and greater than as soon as throughout dinner did Mr. Bennet say voluntarily to Elizabeth:

    “I am glad you are come back, Lizzy.”

    Their get together within the dining-room was giant, for nearly all of the Lucases got here to fulfill Maria and listen to the information; and varied have been the topics that occupied them: Lady Lucas was inquiring of Maria, after the welfare and poultry of her eldest daughter; Mrs. Bennet was doubly engaged, on one hand amassing an account of the current fashions from Jane, who sat a way under her, and, on the opposite, retailing all of them to the youthful Lucases; and Lydia, in a voice relatively louder than some other individual’s, was enumerating the varied pleasures of the morning to anyone who would hear her.

    “Oh! Mary,” mentioned she, “I wish you had gone with us, for we had such fun! As we went along, Kitty and I drew up 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 anybody 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 reply Lydia heard not a phrase. She seldom listened to anyone for greater than half a minute, and by no means attended to Mary in any respect.

    In the afternoon Lydia was pressing with the remainder of the ladies to stroll to Meryton, and to see how all people went on; however Elizabeth steadily opposed the scheme. It shouldn’t be mentioned that the Miss Bennets couldn’t be at dwelling half a day earlier than they have been in pursuit of the officers. There was one more reason too for her opposition. She dreaded seeing Mr. Wickham once more, and was resolved to keep away from it so long as doable. The consolation to her of the regiment’s approaching elimination was certainly past expression. In a fortnight they have been to go—and as soon as gone, she hoped there could possibly be nothing extra to plague her on his account.

    She had not been many hours at dwelling earlier than she discovered that the Brighton scheme, of which Lydia had given them a touch on the inn, was below frequent dialogue between her dad and mom. Elizabeth noticed straight that her father had not the smallest intention of yielding; however his solutions have been on the identical time so obscure and equivocal, that her mom, although typically disheartened, had by no means but despaired of succeeding finally.

    Chapter 40

    Elizabeth’s impatience to acquaint Jane with what had occurred may not be overcome; and at size, resolving to suppress each explicit by which her sister was involved, and making ready her to be shocked, she associated to her the following morning the chief of the scene between Mr. Darcy and herself.

    Miss Bennet’s astonishment was quickly lessened by the robust sisterly partiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth seem completely pure; and all shock was shortly misplaced in different emotions. She was sorry that Mr. Darcy ought to have delivered his sentiments in a way so little suited to advocate them; however nonetheless extra was she grieved for the unhappiness which her sister’s refusal should have given him.

    “His being so sure of succeeding was wrong,” mentioned she, “and certainly ought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase his disappointment!”

    “Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, “I am heartily sorry for him; but he has other feelings, which will probably soon drive away his regard for me. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”

    “Blame you! Oh, no.”

    “But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham?”

    “No—I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”

    “But you will know it, when I tell you what happened the very next day.”

    She then spoke of the letter, repeating the entire of its contents so far as they involved George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane! who would willingly have gone via the world with out believing that a lot wickedness existed in the entire race of mankind, as was right here collected in a single particular person. Nor was Darcy’s vindication, although grateful to her emotions, able to consoling her for such discovery. Most earnestly did she labour to show the chance of error, and search to clear the one with out involving the opposite.

    “This will not do,” mentioned Elizabeth; “you never will be able to make both of them good for anything. Take your choice, but you must be satisfied with only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; just enough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shifting about pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Darcy’s; but you shall do as you choose.”

    It was a while, nevertheless, earlier than a smile could possibly be extorted from Jane.

    “I do not know when I have been more shocked,” mentioned she. “Wickham so very bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! Dear Lizzy, only consider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and with the knowledge of your ill opinion, too! and having to relate such a thing of his sister! It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel it so.”

    “Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you so full of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I am growing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusion makes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart will be as light as a feather.”

    “Poor Wickham! there is such an expression of goodness in his countenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner!”

    “There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.”

    “I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you used to do.”

    “And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one’s genius, such an opening for wit, to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continually abusive without saying anything just; but one cannot always be laughing at a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.”

    “Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treat the matter as you do now.”

    “Indeed, I could not. I was uncomfortable enough, I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to about what I felt, no Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak and vain and nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! how I wanted you!”

    “How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressions in speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they do appear wholly undeserved.”

    “Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness is a most natural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There is one point on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether I ought, or ought not, to make our acquaintances in general understand Wickham’s character.”

    Miss Bennet paused slightly, after which replied, “Surely there can be no occasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your opinion?”

    “That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorised me to make his communication public. On the contrary, every particular relative to his sister was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself; and if I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, who will believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to attempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it. Wickham will soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to anyone here what he really is. Some time hence it will be all found out, and then we may laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before. At present I will say nothing about it.”

    “You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him for ever. He is now, perhaps, sorry for what he has done, and anxious to re-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”

    The tumult of Elizabeth’s thoughts was allayed by this dialog. She had removed two of the secrets and techniques which had weighed on her for a fortnight, and was sure of a keen listener in Jane, every time she may want to speak once more of both. But there was nonetheless one thing lurking behind, of which prudence forbade the disclosure. She dared not relate the opposite half of Mr. Darcy’s letter, nor clarify to her sister how sincerely she had been valued by her good friend. Here was information by which nobody may partake; and he or she was smart that nothing lower than an ideal understanding between the events may justify her in throwing off this final encumbrance of thriller. “And then,” mentioned she, “if that very improbable event should ever take place, I shall merely be able to tell what Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner himself. The liberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost all its value!”

    She was now, on being settled at dwelling, at leisure to look at the true state of her sister’s spirits. Jane was not joyful. She nonetheless cherished a really tender affection for Bingley. Having by no means even fancied herself in love earlier than, her regard had all the heat of first attachment, and, from her age and disposition, better steadiness than most first attachments typically boast; and so fervently did she worth his remembrance, and like him to each different man, that each one her good sense, and all her consideration to the sentiments of her mates, have been requisite to verify the indulgence of these regrets which should have been injurious to her personal well being and their tranquillity.

    “Well, Lizzy,” mentioned Mrs. Bennet sooner or later, “what is your opinion now of this sad business of Jane’s? For my part, I am determined never to speak of it again to anybody. I told my sister Phillips so the other day. But I cannot find out that Jane saw anything of him in London. Well, he is a very undeserving young man—and I do not suppose there’s the least chance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of his coming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have inquired of everybody, too, who is likely to know.”

    “I do not believe he will ever live at Netherfield any more.”

    “Oh well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come. Though I shall always say he used my daughter extremely ill; and if I was her, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart; and then he will be sorry for what he has done.”

    But as Elizabeth couldn’t obtain consolation from any such expectation, she made no reply.

    “Well, Lizzy,” continued her mom, quickly afterwards, “and so the Collinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope it will last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is an excellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother, she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in their housekeeping, I dare say.”

    “No, nothing at all.”

    “A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. they will take care not to outrun their income. They will never be distressed for money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they often talk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon it as quite their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.”

    “It was a subject which they could not mention before me.”

    “No; it would have been strange if they had; but I make no doubt they often talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with an estate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. I should be ashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.”

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  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapters 21-30

    Chapter 21

    The dialogue of Mr. Collins’s provide was now practically at an finish, and Elizabeth had solely to undergo from the uncomfortable emotions essentially attending it, and infrequently from some peevish allusions of her mom. As for the gentleman himself, his emotions have been mainly expressed, not by embarrassment or dejection, or by attempting to keep away from her, however by stiffness of method and resentful silence. He scarcely ever spoke to her, and the assiduous attentions which he had been so smart of himself have been transferred for the remainder of the day to Miss Lucas, whose civility in listening to him was a seasonable reduction to all of them, and particularly to her good friend.

    The morrow produced no abatement of Mrs. Bennet’s ill-humour or unwell well being. Mr. Collins was additionally in the identical state of indignant delight. Elizabeth had hoped that his resentment may shorten his go to, however his plan didn’t seem within the least affected by it. He was all the time to have gone on Saturday, and to Saturday he meant to remain.

    After breakfast, the ladies walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Wickham have been returned, and to lament over his absence from the Netherfield ball. He joined them on their getting into the city, and attended them to their aunt’s the place his remorse and vexation, and the priority of all people, was nicely talked over. To Elizabeth, nonetheless, he voluntarily acknowledged that the need of his absence had been self-imposed.

    “I found,” mentioned he, “as the time drew near that I had better not meet Mr. Darcy; that to be in the same room, the same party with him for so many hours together, might be more than I could bear, and that scenes might arise unpleasant to more than myself.”

    She extremely authorised his forbearance, and so they had leisure for a full dialogue of it, and for all of the commendation which they civilly bestowed on one another, as Wickham and one other officer walked again with them to Longbourn, and throughout the stroll he notably attended to her. His accompanying them was a double benefit; she felt all of the praise it provided to herself, and it was most acceptable as an event of introducing him to her father and mom.

    Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it got here from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of chic, little, hot-pressed paper, nicely lined with a woman’s honest, flowing hand; and Elizabeth noticed her sister’s countenance change as she learn it, and noticed her dwelling intently on some specific passages. Jane recollected herself quickly, and placing the letter away, tried to hitch together with her common cheerfulness within the common dialog; however Elizabeth felt an nervousness on the topic which drew off her consideration even from Wickham; and no sooner had he and his companion taken go away, than a look from Jane invited her to observe her up stairs. When that they had gained their very own room, Jane, taking out the letter, mentioned:

    “This is from Caroline Bingley; what it contains has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town—and without any intention of coming back again. You shall hear what she says.”

    She then learn the primary sentence aloud, which comprised the knowledge of their having simply resolved to observe their brother to city straight, and of their that means to dine in Grosvenor Street, the place Mr. Hurst had a home. The subsequent was in these phrases: “I do not pretend to regret anything I shall leave in Hertfordshire, except your society, my dearest friend; but we will hope, at some future period, to enjoy many returns of that delightful intercourse we have known, and in the meanwhile may lessen the pain of separation by a very frequent and most unreserved correspondence. I depend on you for that.” To these highflown expressions Elizabeth listened with all of the insensibility of mistrust; and although the suddenness of their removing stunned her, she noticed nothing in it actually to lament; it was to not be supposed that their absence from Netherfield would forestall Mr. Bingley’s being there; and as to the lack of their society, she was persuaded that Jane should stop to treat it, within the enjoyment of his.

    “It is unlucky,” mentioned she, after a brief pause, “that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country. But may we not hope that the period of future happiness to which Miss Bingley looks forward may arrive earlier than she is aware, and that the delightful intercourse you have known as friends will be renewed with yet greater satisfaction as sisters? Mr. Bingley will not be detained in London by them.”

    “Caroline decidedly says that none of the party will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you:”

    “When my brother left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are certain it cannot be so, and at the same time convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, we have determined on following him thither, that he may not be obliged to spend his vacant hours in a comfortless hotel. Many of my acquaintances are already there for the winter; I wish that I could hear that you, my dearest friend, had any intention of making one of the crowd—but of that I despair. I sincerely hope your Christmas in Hertfordshire may abound in the gaieties which that season generally brings, and that your beaux will be so numerous as to prevent your feeling the loss of the three of whom we shall deprive you.”

    “It is evident by this,” added Jane, “that he comes back no more this winter.”

    “It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean that he should.”

    “Why will you think so? It must be his own doing. He is his own master. But you do not know all. I will read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from you.”

    “Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister; and, to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare entertain of her being hereafter our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject; but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own; and a sister’s partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman’s heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment, and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?”

    “What do you think of this sentence, my dear Lizzy?” mentioned Jane as she completed it. “Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother’s indifference; and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means (most kindly!) to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?”

    “Yes, there can; for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?”

    “Most willingly.”

    “You shall have it in a few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you.”

    Jane shook her head.

    “Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes. But the case is this: We are not rich enough or grand enough for them; and she is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that when there has been one intermarriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second; in which there is certainly some ingenuity, and I dare say it would succeed, if Miss de Bourgh were out of the way. But, my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine that because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your merit than when he took leave of you on Tuesday, or that it will be in her power to persuade him that, instead of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”

    “If we thought alike of Miss Bingley,” replied Jane, “your representation of all this might make me quite easy. But I know the foundation is unjust. Caroline is incapable of wilfully deceiving anyone; and all that I can hope in this case is that she is deceiving herself.”

    “That is right. You could not have started a more happy idea, since you will not take comfort in mine. Believe her to be deceived, by all means. You have now done your duty by her, and must fret no longer.”

    “But, my dear sister, can I be happy, even supposing the best, in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere?”

    “You must decide for yourself,” mentioned Elizabeth; “and if, upon mature deliberation, you find that the misery of disobliging his two sisters is more than equivalent to the happiness of being his wife, I advise you by all means to refuse him.”

    “How can you talk so?” mentioned Jane, faintly smiling. “You must know that though I should be exceedingly grieved at their disapprobation, I could not hesitate.”

    “I did not think you would; and that being the case, I cannot consider your situation with much compassion.”

    “But if he returns no more this winter, my choice will never be required. A thousand things may arise in six months!”

    The thought of his returning no extra Elizabeth handled with the utmost contempt. It appeared to her merely the suggestion of Caroline’s needs, and he or she couldn’t for a second suppose that these needs, nonetheless overtly or artfully spoken, may affect a younger man so completely impartial of everybody.

    She represented to her sister as forcibly as doable what she felt on the topic, and had quickly the pleasure of seeing its glad impact. Jane’s mood was not desponding, and he or she was progressively led to hope, although the diffidence of affection typically overcame the hope, that Bingley would return to Netherfield and reply each want of her coronary heart.

    They agreed that Mrs. Bennet ought to solely hear of the departure of the household, with out being alarmed on the rating of the gentleman’s conduct; however even this partial communication gave her a substantial amount of concern, and he or she bewailed it as exceedingly unfortunate that the women ought to occur to go away simply as they have been all getting so intimate collectively. After lamenting it, nonetheless, at some size, she had the comfort that Mr. Bingley can be quickly down once more and shortly eating at Longbourn, and the conclusion of all was the comfy declaration, that although he had been invited solely to a household dinner, she would take care to have two full programs.

    Chapter 22

    The Bennets have been engaged to dine with the Lucases and once more throughout the chief of the day was Miss Lucas so form as to take heed to Mr. Collins. Elizabeth took a chance of thanking her. “It keeps him in good humour,” mentioned she, “and I am more obliged to you than I can express.” Charlotte assured her good friend of her satisfaction in being helpful, and that it amply repaid her for the little sacrifice of her time. This was very amiable, however Charlotte’s kindness prolonged farther than Elizabeth had any conception of; its object was nothing else than to safe her from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by partaking them in direction of herself. Such was Miss Lucas’s scheme; and appearances have been so beneficial, that once they parted at night time, she would have felt virtually safe of success if he had not been to go away Hertfordshire so very quickly. But right here she did injustice to the fireplace and independence of his character, for it led him to flee out of Longbourn House the following morning with admirable slyness, and hasten to Lucas Lodge to throw himself at her toes. He was anxious to keep away from the discover of his cousins, from a conviction that in the event that they noticed him depart, they may not fail to conjecture his design, and he was not prepared to have the try identified until its success may be identified likewise; for although feeling virtually safe, and with motive, for Charlotte had been tolerably encouraging, he was comparatively diffident because the journey of Wednesday. His reception, nonetheless, was of essentially the most flattering form. Miss Lucas perceived him from an higher window as he walked in direction of the home, and immediately got down to meet him by chance within the lane. But little had she dared to hope that a lot love and eloquence awaited her there.

    In as brief a time as Mr. Collins’s lengthy speeches would enable, every thing was settled between them to the satisfaction of each; and as they entered the home he earnestly advised her to call the day that was to make him the happiest of males; and although such a solicitation have to be waived for the current, the girl felt no inclination to trifle along with his happiness. The stupidity with which he was favoured by nature should guard his courtship from any attraction that would make a girl want for its continuance; and Miss Lucas, who accepted him solely from the pure and disinterested want of an institution, cared not how quickly that institution have been gained.

    Sir William and Lady Lucas have been speedily utilized to for his or her consent; and it was bestowed with a most joyful alacrity. Mr. Collins’s current circumstances made it a most eligible match for his or her daughter, to whom they may give little fortune; and his prospects of future wealth have been exceedingly honest. Lady Lucas started on to calculate, with extra curiosity than the matter had ever excited earlier than, what number of years longer Mr. Bennet was prone to dwell; and Sir William gave it as his determined opinion, that every time Mr. Collins needs to be in possession of the Longbourn property, it could be extremely expedient that each he and his spouse ought to make their look at St. James’s. The entire household, briefly, have been correctly overjoyed on the event. The youthful women shaped hopes of popping out a 12 months or two before they could in any other case have completed; and the boys have been relieved from their apprehension of Charlotte’s dying an outdated maid. Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her level, and had time to think about of it. Her reflections have been usually passable. Mr. Collins, to make certain, was neither smart nor agreeable; his society was irksome, and his attachment to her have to be imaginary. But nonetheless he can be her husband. Without considering extremely both of males or matrimony, marriage had all the time been her object; it was the one provision for well-educated younger girls of small fortune, and nonetheless unsure of giving happiness, have to be their pleasantest preservative from need. This preservative she had now obtained; and on the age of twenty-seven, with out having ever been good-looking, she felt all the nice luck of it. The least agreeable circumstance within the enterprise was the shock it should event to Elizabeth Bennet, whose friendship she valued past that of some other individual. Elizabeth would marvel, and possibly would blame her; and although her decision was to not be shaken, her emotions have to be damage by such a disapprobation. She resolved to present her the knowledge herself, and subsequently charged Mr. Collins, when he returned to Longbourn to dinner, to drop no trace of what had handed earlier than any of the household. A promise of secrecy was in fact very dutifully given, but it surely couldn’t be stored with out issue; for the curiosity excited by his lengthy absence burst forth in such very direct questions on his return as required some ingenuity to evade, and he was on the similar time exercising nice self-denial, for he was longing to publish his affluent love.

    As he was to start his journey too early on the morrow to see any of the household, the ceremony of leave-taking was carried out when the women moved for the night time; and Mrs. Bennet, with nice politeness and cordiality, mentioned how glad they need to be to see him at Longbourn once more, every time his engagements may enable him to go to them.

    “My dear madam,” he replied, “this invitation is particularly gratifying, because it is what I have been hoping to receive; and you may be very certain that I shall avail myself of it as soon as possible.”

    They have been all astonished; and Mr. Bennet, who may in no way want for thus speedy a return, instantly mentioned:

    “But is there not danger of Lady Catherine’s disapprobation here, my good sir? You had better neglect your relations than run the risk of offending your patroness.”

    “My dear sir,” replied Mr. Collins, “I am particularly obliged to you for this friendly caution, and you may depend upon my not taking so material a step without her ladyship’s concurrence.”

    “You cannot be too much upon your guard. Risk anything rather than her displeasure; and if you find it likely to be raised by your coming to us again, which I should think exceedingly probable, stay quietly at home, and be satisfied that we shall take no offence.”

    “Believe me, my dear sir, my gratitude is warmly excited by such affectionate attention; and depend upon it, you will speedily receive from me a letter of thanks for this, and for every other mark of your regard during my stay in Hertfordshire. As for my fair cousins, though my absence may not be long enough to render it necessary, I shall now take the liberty of wishing them health and happiness, not excepting my cousin Elizabeth.”

    With correct civilities the women then withdrew; all of them equally stunned that he meditated a fast return. Mrs. Bennet wished to know by it that he considered paying his addresses to one in all her youthful women, and Mary may need been prevailed on to just accept him. She rated his skills a lot greater than any of the others; there was a solidity in his reflections which frequently struck her, and although in no way so intelligent as herself, she thought that if inspired to learn and enhance himself by such an instance as hers, he may develop into a really agreeable companion. But on the next morning, each hope of this type was completed away. Miss Lucas known as quickly after breakfast, and in a non-public convention with Elizabeth associated the occasion of the day earlier than.

    The risk of Mr. Collins’s fancying himself in love together with her good friend had as soon as occurred to Elizabeth inside the final day or two; however that Charlotte may encourage him appeared virtually as removed from risk as she may encourage him herself, and her astonishment was consequently so nice as to beat at first the bounds of decorum, and he or she couldn’t assist crying out:

    “Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte—impossible!”

    The regular countenance which Miss Lucas had commanded in telling her story, gave option to a momentary confusion right here on receiving so direct a reproach; although, because it was not more than she anticipated, she quickly regained her composure, and calmly replied:

    “Why should you be surprised, my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?”

    But Elizabeth had now recollected herself, and making a robust effort for it, was in a position to guarantee with tolerable firmness that the prospect of their relationship was extremely grateful to her, and that she wished her all conceivable happiness.

    “I see what you are feeling,” replied Charlotte. “You must be surprised, very much surprised—so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic, you know; I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins’s character, connection, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.”

    Elizabeth quietly answered “Undoubtedly;” and after an ungainly pause, they returned to the remainder of the household. Charlotte didn’t keep for much longer, and Elizabeth was then left to replicate on what she had heard. It was a very long time earlier than she turned in any respect reconciled to the concept of so unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two affords of marriage inside three days was nothing compared of his being now accepted. She had all the time felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was not precisely like her personal, however she had not supposed it to be doable that, when known as into motion, she would have sacrificed each higher feeling to worldly benefit. Charlotte the spouse of Mr. Collins was a most humiliating image! And to the pang of a good friend disgracing herself and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was not possible for that good friend to be tolerably glad within the lot she had chosen.

    Chapter 23

    Elizabeth was sitting together with her mom and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether or not she was authorised to say it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, despatched by his daughter, to announce her engagement to the household. With many compliments to them, and far self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the homes, he unfolded the matter—to an viewers not merely questioning, however incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with extra perseverance than politeness, protested he have to be solely mistaken; and Lydia, all the time unguarded and infrequently uncivil, boisterously exclaimed:

    “Good Lord! Sir William, how can you tell such a story? Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?”

    Nothing lower than the complaisance of a courtier may have borne with out anger such remedy; however Sir William’s good breeding carried him via all of it; and although he begged go away to be constructive as to the reality of his info, he listened to all their impertinence with essentially the most forbearing courtesy.

    Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to alleviate him from so disagreeable a scenario, now put herself ahead to substantiate his account, by mentioning her prior data of it from Charlotte herself; and endeavoured to place a cease to the exclamations of her mom and sisters by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, wherein she was readily joined by Jane, and by making a wide range of remarks on the happiness that may be anticipated from the match, the superb character of Mr. Collins, and the handy distance of Hunsford from London.

    Mrs. Bennet was in reality an excessive amount of overpowered to say a terrific deal whereas Sir William remained; however no sooner had he left them than her emotions discovered a fast vent. In the primary place, she endured in disbelieving the entire of the matter; secondly, she was very positive that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they might by no means be glad collectively; and fourthly, that the match may be damaged off. Two inferences, nonetheless, have been plainly deduced from the entire: one, that Elizabeth was the true reason behind the mischief; and the opposite that she herself had been barbarously misused by all of them; and on these two factors she principally dwelt throughout the remainder of the day. Nothing may console and nothing may appease her. Nor did that day put on out her resentment. Every week elapsed earlier than she may see Elizabeth with out scolding her, a month handed away earlier than she may communicate to Sir William or Lady Lucas with out being impolite, and plenty of months have been gone earlier than she may in any respect forgive their daughter.

    Mr. Bennet’s feelings have been rather more tranquil on the event, and equivalent to he did expertise he pronounced to be of a most agreeable type; for it gratified him, he mentioned, to find that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to assume tolerably smart, was as silly as his spouse, and extra silly than his daughter!

    Jane confessed herself a little bit stunned on the match; however she mentioned much less of her astonishment than of her earnest want for his or her happiness; nor may Elizabeth persuade her to think about it as inconceivable. Kitty and Lydia have been removed from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was solely a priest; and it affected them in no different method than as a bit of reports to unfold at Meryton.

    Lady Lucas couldn’t be insensible of triumph on with the ability to retort on Mrs. Bennet the consolation of getting a daughter nicely married; and he or she known as at Longbourn quite oftener than common to say how glad she was, although Mrs. Bennet’s bitter seems to be and ill-natured remarks may need been sufficient to drive happiness away.

    Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which stored them mutually silent on the topic; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no actual confidence may ever subsist between them once more. Her disappointment in Charlotte made her flip with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was positive her opinion may by no means be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew every day extra anxious, as Bingley had now been gone per week and nothing extra was heard of his return.

    Jane had despatched Caroline an early reply to her letter, and was counting the times until she may moderately hope to listen to once more. The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all of the solemnity of gratitude which a twelvemonth’s abode within the household may need prompted. After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to tell them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the love of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, after which defined that it was merely with the view of having fun with her society that he had been so prepared to shut with their form want of seeing him once more at Longbourn, whither he hoped to have the ability to return on Monday fortnight; for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily authorised his marriage, that she wished it to happen as quickly as doable, which he trusted can be an unanswerable argument along with his amiable Charlotte to call an early day for making him the happiest of males.

    Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was now not a matter of enjoyment to Mrs. Bennet. On the opposite, she was as a lot disposed to complain of it as her husband. It was very unusual that he ought to come to Longbourn as a substitute of to Lucas Lodge; it was additionally very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome. She hated having guests in the home whereas her well being was so detached, and lovers have been of all individuals essentially the most unpleasant. Such have been the mild murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and so they gave method solely to the larger misery of Mr. Bingley’s continued absence.

    Neither Jane nor Elizabeth have been comfy on this topic. Day after day handed away with out bringing some other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no extra to Netherfield the entire winter; a report which extremely incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she by no means did not contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.

    Even Elizabeth started to worry—not that Bingley was detached—however that his sisters would achieve success in conserving him away. Unwilling as she was to confess an thought so damaging of Jane’s happiness, and so dishonorable to the soundness of her lover, she couldn’t forestall its ceaselessly occurring. The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters and of his overpowering good friend, assisted by the points of interest of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London may be an excessive amount of, she feared, for the power of his attachment.

    As for Jane, her nervousness below this suspense was, in fact, extra painful than Elizabeth’s, however no matter she felt she was desirous of concealing, and between herself and Elizabeth, subsequently, the topic was by no means alluded to. But as no such delicacy restrained her mom, an hour seldom handed wherein she didn’t discuss of Bingley, categorical her impatience for his arrival, and even require Jane to admit that if he didn’t come again she would assume herself very unwell used. It wanted all Jane’s regular mildness to bear these assaults with tolerable tranquillity.

    Mr. Collins returned most punctually on Monday fortnight, however his reception at Longbourn was not fairly so gracious because it had been on his first introduction. He was too glad, nonetheless, to want a lot consideration; and fortuitously for the others, the enterprise of love-making relieved them from a substantial amount of his firm. The chief of day-after-day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he typically returned to Longbourn solely in time to apologize for his absence earlier than the household went to mattress.

    Mrs. Bennet was actually in a most pitiable state. The very point out of something in regards to the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went she was positive of listening to it talked of. The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her. As her successor in that home, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence. Whenever Charlotte got here to see them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and every time she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was satisfied that they have been speaking of the Longbourn property, and resolving to show herself and her daughters out of the home, as quickly as Mr. Bennet have been lifeless. She complained bitterly of all this to her husband.

    “Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” mentioned she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that I should be forced to make way for her, and live to see her take her place in it!”

    “My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts. Let us hope for better things. Let us flatter ourselves that I may be the survivor.”

    This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet, and subsequently, as a substitute of creating any reply, she went on as earlier than.

    “I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate. If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it.”

    “What should not you mind?”

    “I should not mind anything at all.”

    “Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility.”

    “I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail. How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own daughters, I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins too! Why should he have it more than anybody else?”

    “I leave it to yourself to determine,” mentioned Mr. Bennet.

    Chapter 24

    Miss Bingley’s letter arrived, and put an finish to doubt. The very first sentence conveyed the reassurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded together with her brother’s remorse at not having had time to pay his respects to his mates in Hertfordshire earlier than he left the nation.

    Hope was over, solely over; and when Jane may attend to the remainder of the letter, she discovered little, besides the professed affection of the author, that would give her any consolation. Miss Darcy’s reward occupied the chief of it. Her many points of interest have been once more dwelt on, and Caroline boasted joyfully of their rising intimacy, and ventured to foretell the accomplishment of the desires which had been unfolded in her former letter. She wrote additionally with nice pleasure of her brother’s being an inmate of Mr. Darcy’s home, and talked about with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furnishings.

    Elizabeth, to whom Jane very quickly communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation. Her coronary heart was divided between concern for her sister, and resentment in opposition to all others. To Caroline’s assertion of her brother’s being keen on Miss Darcy she paid no credit score. That he was actually keen on Jane, she doubted not more than she had ever completed; and far as she had all the time been disposed to love him, she couldn’t assume with out anger, hardly with out contempt, on that easiness of mood, that need of correct decision, which now made him the slave of his designing mates, and led him to sacrifice of his personal happiness to the caprice of their inclination. Had his personal happiness, nonetheless, been the one sacrifice, he may need been allowed to sport with it in no matter method he thought greatest, however her sister’s was concerned in it, as she thought he have to be smart himself. It was a topic, briefly, on which reflection can be lengthy indulged, and have to be unavailing. She may consider nothing else; and but whether or not Bingley’s regard had actually died away, or have been suppressed by his mates’ interference; whether or not he had been conscious of Jane’s attachment, or whether or not it had escaped his statement; no matter have been the case, although her opinion of him have to be materially affected by the distinction, her sister’s scenario remained the identical, her peace equally wounded.

    A day or two handed earlier than Jane had braveness to talk of her emotions to Elizabeth; however finally, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them collectively, after an extended irritation than common about Netherfield and its grasp, she couldn’t assist saying:

    “Oh, that my dear mother had more command over herself! She can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But I will not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.”

    Elizabeth checked out her sister with incredulous solicitude, however mentioned nothing.

    “You doubt me,” cried Jane, barely colouring; “indeed, you have no reason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not that pain. A little time, therefore—I shall certainly try to get the better.”

    With a stronger voice she quickly added, “I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself.”

    “My dear Jane!” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good. Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve.”

    Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary advantage, and threw again the reward on her sister’s heat affection.

    “Nay,” mentioned Elizabeth, “this is not fair. You wish to think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody. I only want to think you perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good-will. You need not. There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense. I have met with two instances lately, one I will not mention; the other is Charlotte’s marriage. It is unaccountable! In every view it is unaccountable!”

    “My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They will ruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference of situation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, and Charlotte’s steady, prudent character. Remember that she is one of a large family; that as to fortune, it is a most eligible match; and be ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like regard and esteem for our cousin.”

    “To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her understanding than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; you know he is, as well as I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who married him cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her, though it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of one individual, change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of danger security for happiness.”

    “I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it by seeing them happy together. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. You mentioned two instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking that person to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than it does.”

    “And men take care that they should.”

    “If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”

    “I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,” mentioned Elizabeth; “but without scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, there may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution, will do the business.”

    “And do you impute it to either of those?”

    “Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying what I think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can.”

    “You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?”

    “Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”

    “I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They can only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me, no other woman can secure it.”

    “Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides his happiness; they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great connections, and pride.”

    “Beyond a doubt, they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane; “but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They have known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love her better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable? If they believed him attached to me, they would not try to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such an affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having been mistaken—or, at least, it is light, it is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take it in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.”

    Elizabeth couldn’t oppose such a want; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s identify was scarcely ever talked about between them.

    Mrs. Bennet nonetheless continued to marvel and repine at his returning no extra, and although a day seldom handed wherein Elizabeth didn’t account for it clearly, there was little probability of her ever contemplating it with much less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to persuade her of what she didn’t consider herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely the impact of a typical and transient liking, which ceased when he noticed her no extra; however although the likelihood of the assertion was admitted on the time, she had the identical story to repeat day-after-day. Mrs. Bennet’s greatest consolation was that Mr. Bingley have to be down once more in the summertime.

    Mr. Bennet handled the matter otherwise. “So, Lizzy,” mentioned he sooner or later, “your sister is crossed in love, I find. I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed a little in love now and then. It is something to think of, and it 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 in 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,” mentioned Mr. Bennet, “but it is a comfort to think that whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will make the most of it.”

    Mr. Wickham’s society was of fabric service in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on most of the Longbourn household. They noticed him usually, and to his different suggestions was now added that of common unreserve. The entire of what Elizabeth had already heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was now overtly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and all people was happy to understand how a lot that they had all the time disliked Mr. Darcy earlier than that they had identified something of the matter.

    Miss Bennet was the one creature who may suppose there may be any extenuating circumstances within the case, unknown to the society of Hertfordshire; her delicate and regular candour all the time pleaded for allowances, and urged the opportunity of errors—however by all people else Mr. Darcy was condemned because the worst of males.

    Chapter 25

    After per week spent in professions of affection and schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins was known as from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of Saturday. The ache of separation, nonetheless, may be alleviated on his aspect, by preparations for the reception of his bride; as he had motive to hope, that shortly after his return into Hertfordshire, the day can be fastened that was to make him the happiest of males. He took go away of his relations at Longbourn with as a lot solemnity as earlier than; wished his honest cousins well being and happiness once more, and promised their father one other letter of thanks.

    On the next Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his spouse, who got here as common to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a wise, gentlemanlike man, drastically superior to his sister, as nicely by nature as training. The Netherfield girls would have had issue in believing {that a} man who lived by commerce, and inside view of his personal warehouses, may have been so well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was a number of years youthful than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips, was an amiable, clever, elegant girl, and a terrific favorite with all her Longbourn nieces. Between the 2 eldest and herself particularly, there subsisted a specific regard. They had ceaselessly been staying together with her on the town.

    The first a part of Mrs. Gardiner’s enterprise on her arrival was to distribute her presents and describe the most recent fashions. When this was completed she had a much less lively half to play. It turned her flip to hear. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to narrate, and far to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she final noticed her sister. Two of her women had been upon the purpose of marriage, and in any case 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 it not 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 the 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 information had been given earlier than, in the midst of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence together with her, made her sister a slight reply, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the dialog.

    When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke extra on the topic. “It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” mentioned she. “I am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and when accident separates them, so easily forgets her, that these sort of inconsistencies are very frequent.”

    “An excellent consolation in its way,” mentioned Elizabeth, “but it will not do for us. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before.”

    “But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as often applied to feelings which arise from a half-hour’s acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how violent was Mr. Bingley’s love?”

    “I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he offended two or three young ladies, by not asking them to dance; and I spoke to him twice myself, without receiving an answer. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”

    “Oh, yes!—of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would be prevailed upon to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service—and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything.”

    Elizabeth was exceedingly happy with this proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister’s prepared acquiescence.

    “I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. 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 that they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her.”

    “And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may perhaps have heard of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without him.”

    “So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane correspond with his sister? She will not be able to help calling.”

    “She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”

    But despite the understanding wherein Elizabeth affected to put this level, in addition to the nonetheless extra attention-grabbing one in all Bingley’s being withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the topic which satisfied her, on examination, that she didn’t contemplate it solely hopeless. It was doable, and typically she thought it possible, that his affection may be reanimated, and the affect of his mates efficiently combated by the extra pure affect of Jane’s points of interest.

    Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the Bingleys have been no in any other case in her ideas on the similar time, than as she hoped by Caroline’s not dwelling in the identical home together with her brother, she may often spend a morning together with her, with none hazard of seeing him.

    The Gardiners stayed per week at Longbourn; and what with the Phillipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day with out its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so fastidiously offered for the leisure of her brother and sister, that they didn’t as soon as sit right down to a household dinner. When the engagement was for dwelling, a few of the officers all the time made a part of it—of which officers Mr. Wickham was positive to be one; and on these events, Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s heat commendation, narrowly noticed them each. Without supposing them, from what she noticed, to be very severely in love, their desire of one another was plain sufficient to make her a little bit uneasy; and he or she resolved to talk to Elizabeth on the topic earlier than she left Hertfordshire, and characterize to her the imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.

    To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one technique of affording pleasure, unconnected along with his common powers. About ten or a dozen years in the past, earlier than her marriage, she had spent a substantial time in that very a part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, subsequently, many acquaintances in widespread; and although Wickham had been little there because the loss of life of Darcy’s father, it was but in his energy to present her brisker intelligence of her former mates than she had been in the way in which of procuring.

    Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and identified the late Mr. Darcy by character completely nicely. Here consequently was an inexhaustible topic of discourse. In evaluating her recollection of Pemberley with the minute description which Wickham may give, and in bestowing her tribute of reward on the character of its late possessor, she was delighting each him and herself. On being made acquainted with the current Mr. Darcy’s remedy of him, she tried to recollect a few of that gentleman’s reputed disposition when fairly a lad which could agree with it, and was assured finally that she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy previously spoken of as a really proud, ill-natured boy.

    Chapter 26

    Mrs. Gardiner’s warning to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on the primary beneficial alternative of talking to her alone; after truthfully telling her what she thought, she thus went on:

    “You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve yourself or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want of fortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against him; he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is, you must not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all expect you to use it. Your father would depend on your resolution and good conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”

    “My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”

    “Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”

    “Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of myself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I can prevent it.”

    “Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”

    “I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in love with Mr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, the most agreeable man I ever saw—and if he becomes really attached to me—I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudence of it. Oh! that abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s opinion of me does me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to forfeit it. My father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I will do my best.”

    “Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very often. At least, you should not remind your mother of inviting him.”

    “As I did the other day,” mentioned Elizabeth with a acutely aware smile: “very true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. But do not imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has been so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my honour, I will try to do what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you are satisfied.”

    Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizabeth having thanked her for the kindness of her hints, they parted; an exquisite occasion of recommendation being given on such some extent, with out being resented.

    Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire quickly after it had been quitted by the Gardiners and Jane; however as he took up his abode with the Lucases, his arrival was no nice inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His marriage was now quick approaching, and he or she was at size thus far resigned as to assume it inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she “wished they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the marriage day, and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell go to; and when she rose to take go away, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mom’s ungracious and reluctant good needs, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they went downstairs collectively, Charlotte mentioned:

    “I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”

    “That you certainly shall.”

    “And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?”

    “We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”

    “I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to come to Hunsford.”

    Elizabeth couldn’t refuse, although she foresaw little pleasure within the go to.

    “My father and Maria are coming to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and I hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome as either of them.”

    The marriage ceremony came about; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the church door, and all people had as a lot to say, or to listen to, on the topic as common. Elizabeth quickly heard from her good friend; and their correspondence was as common and frequent because it had ever been; that it needs to be equally unreserved was not possible. Elizabeth may by no means deal with her with out feeling that each one the consolation of intimacy was over, and although decided to not slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been, quite than what was. Charlotte’s first letters have been obtained with a great deal of eagerness; there couldn’t however be curiosity to understand how she would communicate of her new dwelling, how she would really like Lady Catherine, and the way glad she would dare pronounce herself to be; although, when the letters have been learn, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte expressed herself on each level precisely as she may need foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, appeared surrounded with comforts, and talked about nothing which she couldn’t reward. The home, furnishings, neighbourhood, and roads, have been all to her style, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most pleasant and obliging. It was Mr. Collins’s image of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she should look ahead to her personal go to there to know the remainder.

    Jane had already written a couple of strains to her sister to announce their protected arrival in London; and when she wrote once more, Elizabeth hoped it could be in her energy to say one thing of the Bingleys.

    Her impatience for this second letter was as nicely rewarded as impatience usually is. Jane had been per week on the town with out both seeing or listening to from Caroline. She accounted for it, nonetheless, by supposing that her final letter to her good friend from Longbourn had by some accident been misplaced.

    “My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the town, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”

    She wrote once more when the go to was paid, and he or she had seen Miss Bingley. “I did not think Caroline in spirits,” have been her phrases, “but she was very glad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to London. I was right, therefore, my last letter had never reached her. I inquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that Miss Darcy was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was not long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall see them soon here.”

    Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It satisfied her that accident solely may uncover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being on the town.

    Four weeks handed away, and Jane noticed nothing of him. She endeavoured to steer herself that she didn’t remorse it; however she may now not be blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After ready at dwelling each morning for a fortnight, and inventing each night a recent excuse for her, the customer did finally seem; however the shortness of her keep, and but extra, the alteration of her method would enable Jane to deceive herself now not. The letter which she wrote on this event to her sister will show what she felt.

    “My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in her better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I still assert that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming her. She was very wrong in singling me out as she did; I can safely say that every advance to intimacy began on her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and though weknow this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she must feel on his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at her having any such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we must have met, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and yet it would seem, by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost tempted to say that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavour to banish every painful thought, and think only of what will make me happy—your affection, and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there.—Yours, etc.”

    This letter gave Elizabeth some ache; however her spirits returned as she thought-about that Jane would now not be duped, by the sister no less than. All expectation from the brother was now completely over. She wouldn’t even want for a renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on each evaluate of it; and as a punishment for him, in addition to a doable benefit to Jane, she severely hoped he may actually quickly marry Mr. Darcy’s sister, as by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly remorse what he had thrown away.

    Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise regarding that gentleman, and required info; and Elizabeth had such to ship as may quite give contentment to her aunt than to herself. His obvious partiality had subsided, his attentions have been over, he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was watchful sufficient to see all of it, however she may see it and write of it with out materials ache. Her coronary heart had been however barely touched, and her vainness was happy with believing that she would have been his solely alternative, had fortune permitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand kilos was essentially the most outstanding attraction of the younger girl to whom he was now rendering himself agreeable; however Elizabeth, much less clear-sighted maybe on this case than in Charlotte’s, didn’t quarrel with him for his want of independence. Nothing, quite the opposite, might be extra pure; and whereas in a position to suppose that it price him a couple of struggles to relinquish her, she was prepared to permit it a smart and fascinating measure for each, and will very sincerely want him glad.

    All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating the circumstances, she thus went on: “I am now convinced, my dear aunt, that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards him; they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My watchfulness has been effectual; and though I certainly should be a more interesting object to all my acquaintances were I distractedly in love with him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance. Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take his defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the ways of the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men must have something to live on as well as the plain.”

    Chapter 27

    With no larger occasions than these within the Longbourn household, and in any other case diversified by little past the walks to Meryton, typically soiled and typically chilly, did January and February move away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very severely of going thither; however Charlotte, she quickly discovered, was relying on the plan and he or she progressively discovered to think about it herself with larger pleasure in addition to larger certainty. Absence had elevated her want of seeing Charlotte once more, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There was novelty within the scheme, and as, with such a mom and such uncompanionable sisters, dwelling couldn’t be faultless, a little bit change was not unwelcome for its personal sake. The journey would furthermore give her a peep at Jane; and, briefly, because the time drew close to, she would have been very sorry for any delay. Everything, nonetheless, went on easily, and was lastly settled based on Charlotte’s first sketch. She was to accompany Sir William and his second daughter. The enchancment of spending an evening in London was added in time, and the plan turned excellent as plan might be.

    The solely ache was in leaving her father, who would definitely miss her, and who, when it got here to the purpose, so little favored her going, that he informed her to write down to him, and virtually promised to reply her letter.

    The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was completely pleasant; on his aspect much more. His current pursuit couldn’t make him neglect that Elizabeth had been the primary to excite and to deserve his consideration, the primary to hear and to pity, the primary to be admired; and in his method of bidding her adieu, wishing her each enjoyment, reminding her of what she was to count on in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their opinion of her—their opinion of all people—would all the time coincide, there was a solicitude, an curiosity which she felt should ever connect her to him with a most honest regard; and he or she parted from him satisfied that, whether or not married or single, he should all the time be her mannequin of the amiable and pleasing.

    Her fellow-travellers the following day weren’t of a sort to make her assume him much less agreeable. Sir William Lucas, and his daughter Maria, a good-humoured lady, however as empty-headed as himself, had nothing to say that might be price listening to, and have been listened to with about as a lot delight because the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth cherished absurdities, however she had identified Sir William’s too lengthy. He may inform her nothing new of the wonders of his presentation and knighthood; and his civilities have been worn out, like his info.

    It was a journey of solely twenty-four miles, and so they started it so early as to be in Gracechurch Street by midday. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner’s door, Jane was at a drawing-room window watching their arrival; once they entered the passage she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, wanting earnestly in her face, was happy to see it healthful and beautiful as ever. On the steps have been a troop of little girls and boys, whose eagerness for his or her cousin’s look wouldn’t enable them to attend within the drawing-room, and whose shyness, as that they had not seen her for a twelvemonth, prevented their coming decrease. All was pleasure and kindness. The day handed most pleasantly away; the morning in bustle and purchasing, and the night at one of many theatres.

    Elizabeth then contrived to take a seat by her aunt. Their first object was her sister; and he or she was extra grieved than astonished to listen to, in reply to her minute inquiries, that although Jane all the time struggled to assist her spirits, there have been intervals of dejection. It was affordable, nonetheless, to hope that they might not proceed lengthy. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the particulars additionally of Miss Bingley’s go to in Gracechurch Street, and repeated conversations occurring at completely different instances between Jane and herself, which proved that the previous had, from her coronary heart, given up the acquaintance.

    Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham’s desertion, and complimented her on bearing it so nicely.

    “But my dear Elizabeth,” she added, “what sort of girl is Miss King? I should be sorry to think our friend mercenary.”

    “Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs, between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end, and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me, because it would be imprudent; and now, because he is trying to get a girl with only ten thousand pounds, you want to find out that he is mercenary.”

    “If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know what to think.”

    “She is a very good kind of girl, I believe. I know no harm of her.”

    “But he paid her not the smallest attention till her grandfather’s death made her mistress of this fortune.”

    “No—why should he? If it were not allowable for him to gain my affections because I had no money, what occasion could there be for making love to a girl whom he did not care about, and who was equally poor?”

    “But there seems an indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so soon after this event.”

    “A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant decorums which other people may observe. If she does not object to it, why should we?”

    “Her not objecting does not justify him. It only shows her being deficient in something herself—sense or feeling.”

    “Well,” cried Elizabeth, “have it as you choose. He shall be mercenary, and she shall be foolish.”

    “No, Lizzy, that is what I do not choose. I should be sorry, you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire.”

    “Oh! if that is all, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire; and their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. Thank Heaven! I am going to-morrow where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manner nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.”

    “Take care, Lizzy; that speech savours strongly of disappointment.”

    Before they have been separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the surprising happiness of an invite to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of enjoyment which they proposed taking in the summertime.

    “We have not determined how far it shall carry us,” mentioned Mrs. Gardiner, “but, perhaps, to the Lakes.”

    No scheme may have been extra agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most prepared and grateful. “Oh, my dear, dear aunt,” she rapturously cried, “what delight! what felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are young men to rocks and mountains? Oh! what hours of transport we shall spend! And when we do return, it shall not be like other travellers, without being able to give one accurate idea of anything. We will know where we have gone—we will recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor when we attempt to describe any particular scene, will we begin quarreling about its relative situation. Let ourfirst effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travellers.”

    Chapter 28

    Every object within the subsequent day’s journey was new and attention-grabbing to Elizabeth; and her spirits have been in a state of enjoyment; for she had seen her sister wanting so nicely as to banish all worry for her well being, and the prospect of her northern tour was a continuing supply of pleasure.

    When they left the excessive street for the lane to Hunsford, each eye was in the hunt for the Parsonage, and each turning anticipated to deliver it in view. The palings of Rosings Park was their boundary on one aspect. Elizabeth smiled on the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants.

    At size the Parsonage was discernible. The backyard sloping to the street, the home standing in it, the inexperienced pales, and the laurel hedge, every thing declared they have been arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared on the door, and the carriage stopped on the small gate which led by a brief gravel stroll to the home, amidst the nods and smiles of the entire social gathering. In a second they have been all out of the chaise, rejoicing on the sight of one another. Mrs. Collins welcomed her good friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was increasingly more happy with coming when she discovered herself so affectionately obtained. She noticed immediately that her cousin’s manners weren’t altered by his marriage; his formal civility was simply what it had been, and he detained her some minutes on the gate to listen to and fulfill his inquiries in any case her household. They have been then, with no different delay than his mentioning the neatness of the doorway, taken into the home; and as quickly as they have been within the parlour, he welcomed them a second time, with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his spouse’s affords of refreshment.

    Elizabeth was ready to see him in his glory; and he or she couldn’t assist in fancying that in displaying the nice proportion of the room, its side and its furnishings, he addressed himself notably to her, as if wishing to make her really feel what she had misplaced in refusing him. But although every thing appeared neat and comfy, she was not in a position to gratify him by any sigh of repentance, and quite appeared with marvel at her good friend that she may have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr. Collins mentioned something of which his spouse may moderately be ashamed, which actually was not unseldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she may discern a faint blush; however usually Charlotte properly didn’t hear. After sitting lengthy sufficient to admire each article of furnishings within the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to present an account of their journey, and of all that had occurred in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll within the backyard, which was massive and nicely laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself. To work on this backyard was one in all his most respectable pleasures; and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the train, and owned she inspired it as a lot as doable. Here, main the way in which via each stroll and cross stroll, and scarcely permitting them an interval to utter the praises he requested for, each view was identified with a minuteness which left magnificence solely behind. He may quantity the fields in each route, and will inform what number of bushes there have been in essentially the most distant clump. But of all of the views which his backyard, or which the nation or kingdom may boast, none have been to be in contrast with the prospect of Rosings, afforded by a gap within the bushes that bordered the park practically reverse the entrance of his home. It was a good-looking trendy constructing, nicely located on rising floor.

    From his backyard, Mr. Collins would have led them spherical his two meadows; however the girls, not having footwear to come across the stays of a white frost, turned again; and whereas Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and good friend over the home, extraordinarily nicely happy, in all probability, to have the chance of displaying it with out her husband’s assist. It was quite small, however nicely constructed and handy; and every thing was fitted up and organized with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all of the credit score. When Mr. Collins might be forgotten, there was actually an air of nice consolation all through, and by Charlotte’s evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he have to be usually forgotten.

    She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was nonetheless within the nation. It was spoken of once more whereas they have been at dinner, when Mr. Collins becoming a member of in, noticed:

    “Yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine de Bourgh on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week, and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship’s carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say, one of her ladyship’s carriages, for she has several.”

    “Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman indeed,” added Charlotte, “and a most attentive neighbour.”

    “Very true, my dear, that is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference.”

    The night was spent mainly in speaking over Hertfordshire information, and telling once more what had already been written; and when it closed, Elizabeth, within the solitude of her chamber, needed to meditate upon Charlotte’s diploma of contentment, to know her deal with in guiding, and composure in bearing with, her husband, and to acknowledge that it was all completed very nicely. She had additionally to anticipate how her go to would move, the quiet tenor of their common employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. A energetic creativeness quickly settled all of it.

    About the center of the following day, as she was in her room preparing for a stroll, a sudden noise under appeared to talk the entire home in confusion; and, after listening a second, she heard anyone operating up stairs in a violent hurry, and calling loudly after her. She opened the door and met Maria within the touchdown place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out—

    “Oh, my dear Eliza! pray make haste and come into the dining-room, for there is such a sight to be seen! I will not tell you what it is. Make haste, and come down this moment.”

    Elizabeth requested questions in useless; Maria would inform her nothing extra, and down they bumped into the dining-room, which fronted the lane, in quest of this marvel; It was two girls stopping in a low phaeton on the backyard gate.

    “And is this all?” cried Elizabeth. “I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter.”

    “La! my dear,” mentioned Maria, fairly shocked on the mistake, “it is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them; the other is Miss de Bourgh. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought that she could be so thin and small?”

    “She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in?”

    “Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours when Miss de Bourgh comes in.”

    “I like her appearance,” mentioned Elizabeth, struck with different concepts. “She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife.”

    Mr. Collins and Charlotte have been each standing on the gate in dialog with the women; and Sir William, to Elizabeth’s excessive diversion, was stationed within the doorway, in earnest contemplation of the greatness earlier than him, and always bowing every time Miss de Bourgh appeared that method.

    At size there was nothing extra to be mentioned; the women drove on, and the others returned into the home. Mr. Collins no sooner noticed the 2 women than he started to congratulate them on their success, which Charlotte defined by letting them know that the entire social gathering was requested to dine at Rosings the following day.

    Chapter 29

    Mr. Collins’s triumph, in consequence of this invitation, was full. The energy of displaying the grandeur of his patroness to his questioning guests, and of letting them see her civility in direction of himself and his spouse, was precisely what he had wished for; and that a chance of doing it needs to be given so quickly, was such an occasion of Lady Catherine’s condescension, as he knew not the right way to admire sufficient.

    “I confess,” mentioned he, “that I should not have been at all surprised by her ladyship’s asking us on Sunday to drink tea and spend the evening at Rosings. I rather expected, from my knowledge of her affability, that it would happen. But who could have foreseen such an attention as this? Who could have imagined that we should receive an invitation to dine there (an invitation, moreover, including the whole party) so immediately after your arrival!”

    “I am the less surprised at what has happened,” replied Sir William, “from that knowledge of what the manners of the great really are, which my situation in life has allowed me to acquire. About the court, such instances of elegant breeding are not uncommon.”

    Scarcely something was talked of the entire day or subsequent morning however their go to to Rosings. Mr. Collins was fastidiously instructing them in what they have been to count on, that the sight of such rooms, so many servants, and so splendid a dinner, won’t wholly overpower them.

    When the women have been separating for the toilette, he mentioned to Elizabeth—

    “Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousin, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us which becomes herself and her daughter. I would advise you merely to put on whatever of your clothes is superior to the rest—there is no occasion for anything more. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.”

    While they have been dressing, he got here two or 3 times to their completely different doorways, to suggest their being fast, as Lady Catherine very a lot objected to be stored ready for her dinner. Such formidable accounts of her ladyship, and her method of dwelling, fairly frightened Maria Lucas who had been little used to firm, and he or she appeared ahead to her introduction at Rosings with as a lot apprehension as her father had completed to his presentation at St. James’s.

    As the climate was high quality, that they had a pleasing stroll of about half a mile throughout the park. Every park has its magnificence and its prospects; and Elizabeth noticed a lot to be happy with, although she couldn’t be in such raptures as Mr. Collins anticipated the scene to encourage, and was however barely affected by his enumeration of the home windows in entrance of the home, and his relation of what the glazing altogether had initially price Sir Lewis de Bourgh.

    When they ascended the steps to the corridor, Maria’s alarm was each second rising, and even Sir William didn’t look completely calm. Elizabeth’s braveness didn’t fail her. She had heard nothing of Lady Catherine that spoke her terrible from any extraordinary skills or miraculous advantage, and the mere stateliness of cash or rank she thought she may witness with out trepidation.

    From the entrance-hall, of which Mr. Collins identified, with a rapturous air, the high quality proportion and the completed ornaments, they adopted the servants via an ante-chamber, to the room the place Lady Catherine, her daughter, and Mrs. Jenkinson have been sitting. Her ladyship, with nice condescension, arose to obtain them; and as Mrs. Collins had settled it together with her husband that the workplace of introduction needs to be hers, it was carried out in a correct method, with none of these apologies and thanks which he would have thought mandatory.

    In spite of getting been at St. James’s Sir William was so utterly awed by the grandeur surrounding him, that he had however simply braveness sufficient to make a really low bow, and take his seat with out saying a phrase; and his daughter, frightened virtually out of her senses, sat on the sting of her chair, not figuring out which option to look. Elizabeth discovered herself fairly equal to the scene, and will observe the three girls earlier than her composedly. Lady Catherine was a tall, massive girl, with strongly-marked options, which could as soon as have been good-looking. Her air was not conciliating, nor was her method of receiving them equivalent to to make her guests neglect their inferior rank. She was not rendered formidable by silence; however no matter she mentioned was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance, and introduced Mr. Wickham instantly to Elizabeth’s thoughts; and from the statement of the day altogether, she believed Lady Catherine to be precisely what he represented.

    When, after inspecting the mom, in whose countenance and deportment she quickly discovered some resemblance of Mr. Darcy, she turned her eyes on the daughter, she may virtually have joined in Maria’s astonishment at her being so skinny and so small. There was neither in determine nor face any likeness between the women. Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly; her options, although not plain, have been insignificant; and he or she spoke little or no, besides in a low voice, to Mrs. Jenkinson, in whose look there was nothing outstanding, and who was solely engaged in listening to what she mentioned, and putting a display within the correct route earlier than her eyes.

    After sitting a couple of minutes, they have been all despatched to one of many home windows to admire the view, Mr. Collins attending them to level out its beauties, and Lady Catherine kindly informing them that it was a lot better price in the summertime.

    The dinner was exceedingly good-looking, and there have been all of the servants and all of the articles of plate which Mr. Collins had promised; and, as he had likewise foretold, he took his seat on the backside of the desk, by her ladyship’s want, and appeared as if he felt that life may furnish nothing larger. He carved, and ate, and praised with delighted alacrity; and each dish was counseled, first by him after which by Sir William, who was now sufficient recovered to echo no matter his son-in-law mentioned, in a fashion which Elizabeth questioned Lady Catherine may bear. But Lady Catherine appeared gratified by their extreme admiration, and gave most gracious smiles, particularly when any dish on the desk proved a novelty to them. The social gathering didn’t provide a lot dialog. Elizabeth was prepared to talk every time there was a gap, however she was seated between Charlotte and Miss de Bourgh—the previous of whom was engaged in listening to Lady Catherine, and the latter mentioned not a phrase to her all dinner-time. Mrs. Jenkinson was mainly employed in watching how little Miss de Bourgh ate, urgent her to strive another dish, and fearing she was indisposed. Maria thought talking out of the query, and the gents did nothing however eat and admire.

    When the women returned to the drawing-room, there was little to be completed however to listen to Lady Catherine discuss, which she did with none intermission until espresso got here in, delivering her opinion on each topic in so decisive a fashion, as proved that she was not used to have her judgement controverted. She inquired into Charlotte’s home considerations familiarly and minutely, gave her a substantial amount of recommendation as to the administration of all of them; informed her how every thing must be regulated in so small a household as hers, and instructed her as to the care of her cows and her poultry. Elizabeth discovered that nothing was beneath this nice girl’s consideration, which may furnish her with an event of dictating to others. In the intervals of her discourse with Mrs. Collins, she addressed a wide range of inquiries to Maria and Elizabeth, however particularly to the latter, of whose connections she knew the least, and who she noticed to Mrs. Collins was a really genteel, fairly type of lady. She requested her, at completely different instances, what number of sisters she had, whether or not they have been older or youthful than herself, whether or not any of them have been prone to be married, whether or not they have been good-looking, the place that they had been educated, what carriage her father stored, and what had been her mom’s maiden identify? Elizabeth felt all of the impertinence of her questions however answered them very composedly. Lady Catherine then noticed,

    “Your father’s estate is entailed on Mr. Collins, I think. For your sake,” turning to Charlotte, “I am glad of it; but otherwise I see no occasion for entailing estates from the female line. It was not thought necessary in Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s family. Do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?”

    “A little.”

    “Oh! then—some time or other we shall be happy to hear you. Our instrument is a capital one, probably superior to——You shall try it some day. Do your sisters play and sing?”

    “One of them does.”

    “Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do you draw?”

    “No, not at all.”

    “What, none of you?”

    “Not one.”

    “That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters.”

    “My mother would have had no objection, but my father hates London.”

    “Has your governess left you?”

    “We never had any governess.”

    “No governess! How was that possible? Five daughters brought up at home without a governess! I never heard of such a thing. Your mother must have been quite a slave to your education.”

    Elizabeth may hardly assist smiling as she assured her that had not been the case.

    “Then, who taught you? who attended to you? Without a governess, you must have been neglected.”

    “Compared with some families, I believe we were; but such of us as wished to learn never wanted the means. We were always encouraged to read, and had all the masters that were necessary. Those who chose to be idle, certainly might.”

    “Aye, no doubt; but that is what a governess will prevent, and if I had known your mother, I should have advised her most strenuously to engage one. I always say that nothing is to be done in education without steady and regular instruction, and nobody but a governess can give it. It is wonderful how many families I have been the means of supplying in that way. I am always glad to get a young person well placed out. Four nieces of Mrs. Jenkinson are most delightfully situated through my means; and it was but the other day that I recommended another young person, who was merely accidentally mentioned to me, and the family are quite delighted with her. Mrs. Collins, did I tell you of Lady Metcalf’s calling yesterday to thank me? She finds Miss Pope a treasure. ‘Lady Catherine,’ said she, ‘you have given me a treasure.’ Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Bennet?”

    “Yes, ma’am, all.”

    “All! What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The younger ones out before the elder ones are married! Your younger sisters must be very young?”

    “Yes, my youngest is not sixteen. Perhaps she is full young to be much in company. But really, ma’am, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters, that they should not have their share of society and amusement, because the elder may not have the means or inclination to marry early. The last-born has as good a right to the pleasures of youth as the first. And to be kept back on such a motive! I think it would not be very likely to promote sisterly affection or delicacy of mind.”

    “Upon my word,” mentioned her ladyship, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”

    “With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, smiling, “your ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”

    Lady Catherine appeared fairly astonished at not receiving a direct reply; and Elizabeth suspected herself to be the primary creature who had ever dared to trifle with a lot dignified impertinence.

    “You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need not conceal your age.”

    “I am not one-and-twenty.”

    When the gents had joined them, and tea was over, the card-tables have been positioned. Lady Catherine, Sir William, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat right down to quadrille; and as Miss de Bourgh selected to play at cassino, the 2 women had the honour of aiding Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her social gathering. Their desk was superlatively silly. Scarcely a syllable was uttered that didn’t relate to the sport, besides when Mrs. Jenkinson expressed her fears of Miss de Bourgh’s being too sizzling or too chilly, or having an excessive amount of or too little mild. An ideal deal extra handed on the different desk. Lady Catherine was usually talking—stating the errors of the three others, or relating some anecdote of herself. Mr. Collins was employed in agreeing to every thing her ladyship mentioned, thanking her for each fish he received, and apologising if he thought he received too many. Sir William didn’t say a lot. He was storing his reminiscence with anecdotes and noble names.

    When Lady Catherine and her daughter had performed so long as they selected, the tables have been damaged up, the carriage was provided to Mrs. Collins, gratefully accepted and instantly ordered. The social gathering then gathered spherical the fireplace to listen to Lady Catherine decide what climate they have been to have on the morrow. From these directions they have been summoned by the arrival of the coach; and with many speeches of thankfulness on Mr. Collins’s aspect and as many bows on Sir William’s they departed. As quickly as that they had pushed from the door, Elizabeth was known as on by her cousin to present her opinion of all that she had seen at Rosings, which, for Charlotte’s sake, she made extra beneficial than it actually was. But her commendation, although costing her some hassle, may in no way fulfill Mr. Collins, and he was very quickly obliged to take her ladyship’s reward into his personal palms.

    Chapter 30

    Sir William stayed solely per week at Hunsford, however his go to was lengthy sufficient to persuade him of his daughter’s being most comfortably settled, and of her possessing such a husband and such a neighbour as weren’t usually met with. While Sir William was with them, Mr. Collins devoted his morning to driving him out in his gig, and displaying him the nation; however when he went away, the entire household returned to their common employments, and Elizabeth was grateful to seek out that they didn’t see extra of her cousin by the alteration, for the chief of the time between breakfast and dinner was now handed by him both at work within the backyard or in studying and writing, and searching of the window in his personal book-room, which fronted the street. The room wherein the women sat was backwards. Elizabeth had at first quite questioned that Charlotte shouldn’t choose the dining-parlour for widespread use; it was a greater sized room, and had a extra nice side; however she quickly noticed that her good friend had a wonderful motive for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been a lot much less in his personal house, had they sat in a single equally energetic; and he or she gave Charlotte credit score for the association.

    From the drawing-room they may distinguish nothing within the lane, and have been indebted to Mr. Collins for the data of what carriages went alongside, and the way usually particularly Miss de Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he by no means failed coming to tell them of, although it occurred virtually day-after-day. She not unfrequently stopped on the Parsonage, and had a couple of minutes’ dialog with Charlotte, however was scarcely ever prevailed upon to get out.

    Very few days handed wherein Mr. Collins didn’t stroll to Rosings, and never many wherein his spouse didn’t assume it essential to go likewise; and until Elizabeth recollected that there may be different household livings to be disposed of, she couldn’t perceive the sacrifice of so many hours. Now after which they have been honoured with a name from her ladyship, and nothing escaped her statement that was passing within the room throughout these visits. She examined into their employments, checked out their work, and suggested them to do it otherwise; discovered fault with the association of the furnishings; or detected the housemaid in negligence; and if she accepted any refreshment, appeared to do it just for the sake of discovering out that Mrs. Collins’s joints of meat have been too massive for her household.

    Elizabeth quickly perceived, that although this nice girl was not in fee of the peace of the county, she was a most lively Justice of the Peace in her personal parish, the minutest considerations of which have been carried to her by Mr. Collins; and every time any of the cottagers have been disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented, or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their variations, silence their complaints, and scold them into concord and lots.

    The leisure of eating at Rosings was repeated about twice per week; and, permitting for the lack of Sir William, and there being just one card-table within the night, each such leisure was the counterpart of the primary. Their different engagements have been few, because the model of dwelling within the neighbourhood usually was past Mr. Collins’s attain. This, nonetheless, was no evil to Elizabeth, and upon the entire she spent her time comfortably sufficient; there have been half-hours of nice dialog with Charlotte, and the climate was so high quality for the time of 12 months that she had usually nice enjoyment outdoor. Her favorite stroll, and the place she ceaselessly went whereas the others have been calling on Lady Catherine, was alongside the open grove which edged that aspect of the park, the place there was a pleasant sheltered path, which nobody appeared to worth however herself, and the place she felt past the attain of Lady Catherine’s curiosity.

    In this quiet method, the primary fortnight of her go to quickly handed away. Easter was approaching, and the week previous it was to deliver an addition to the household at Rosings, which in so small a circle have to be vital. Elizabeth had heard quickly after her arrival that Mr. Darcy was anticipated there in the midst of a couple of weeks, and although there weren’t lots of her acquaintances whom she didn’t choose, his coming would furnish one comparatively new to have a look at of their Rosings events, and he or she may be amused in seeing how hopeless Miss Bingley’s designs on him have been, by his behaviour to his cousin, for whom he was evidently destined by Lady Catherine, who talked of his coming with the best satisfaction, spoke of him when it comes to the best admiration, and appeared virtually indignant to seek out that he had already been ceaselessly seen by Miss Lucas and herself.

    His arrival was quickly identified on the Parsonage; for Mr. Collins was strolling the entire morning inside view of the lodges opening into Hunsford Lane, with a purpose to have the earliest assurance of it, and after making his bow because the carriage became the Park, hurried dwelling with the nice intelligence. On the next morning he hastened to Rosings to pay his respects. There have been two nephews of Lady Catherine to require them, for Mr. Darcy had introduced with him a Colonel Fitzwilliam, the youthful son of his uncle Lord ——, and, to the nice shock of all of the social gathering, when Mr. Collins returned, the gents accompanied him. Charlotte had seen them from her husband’s room, crossing the street, and instantly operating into the opposite, informed the ladies what an honour they could count on, including:

    “I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me.”

    Elizabeth had scarcely time to deny all proper to the praise, earlier than their method was introduced by the door-bell, and shortly afterwards the three gents entered the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam, who led the way in which, was about thirty, not good-looking, however in individual and deal with most really the gentleman. Mr. Darcy appeared simply as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire—paid his compliments, along with his common reserve, to Mrs. Collins, and no matter may be his emotions towards her good friend, met her with each look of composure. Elizabeth merely curtseyed to him with out saying a phrase.

    Colonel Fitzwilliam entered into dialog straight with the readiness and ease of a well-bred man, and talked very pleasantly; however his cousin, after having addressed a slight statement on the home and backyard to Mrs. Collins, sat for a while with out talking to anyone. At size, nonetheless, his civility was thus far woke up as to inquire of Elizabeth after the well being of her household. She answered him within the common method, and after a second’s pause, added:

    “My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?”

    She was completely smart that he by no means had; however she wished to see whether or not he would betray any consciousness of what had handed between the Bingleys and Jane, and he or she thought he appeared a little bit confused as he answered that he had by no means been so lucky as to satisfy Miss Bennet. The topic was pursued no farther, and the gents quickly afterwards went away.

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  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapter 11-20

    Chapter 11

    When the women eliminated after dinner, Elizabeth ran as much as her sister, and seeing her effectively guarded from chilly, attended her into the drawing-room, the place she was welcomed by her two buddies with many professions of delight; and Elizabeth had by no means seen them so agreeable as they have been throughout the hour which handed earlier than the gents appeared. Their powers of dialog have been appreciable. They may describe an leisure with accuracy, relate an anecdote with humour, and giggle at their acquaintance with spirit.

    But when the gents entered, Jane was not the primary object; Miss Bingley’s eyes have been immediately turned towards Darcy, and he or she had one thing to say to him earlier than he had superior many steps. He addressed himself to Miss Bennet, with a well mannered congratulation; Mr. Hurst additionally made her a slight bow, and mentioned he was “very glad;” however diffuseness and heat remained for Bingley’s salutation. He was stuffed with pleasure and a focus. The first half-hour was spent in piling up the fireplace, lest she ought to endure from the change of room; and he or she eliminated at his need to the opposite aspect of the fireside, that she is likely to be farther from the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to anybody else. Elizabeth, at work within the reverse nook, noticed all of it with nice delight.

    When tea was over, Mr. Hurst reminded his sister-in-law of the card-table—however in useless. She had obtained personal intelligence that Mr. Darcy didn’t want for playing cards; and Mr. Hurst quickly discovered even his open petition rejected. She assured him that nobody supposed to play, and the silence of the entire celebration on the topic appeared to justify her. Mr. Hurst had due to this fact nothing to do, however to stretch himself on one of many sofas and fall asleep. Darcy took up a ebook; Miss Bingley did the identical; and Mrs. Hurst, principally occupied in enjoying along with her bracelets and rings, joined from time to time in her brother’s dialog with Miss Bennet.

    Miss Bingley’s consideration was fairly as a lot engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress by means of his ebook, as in studying her personal; and he or she was perpetually both making some inquiry, or taking a look at his web page. She couldn’t win him, nonetheless, to any dialog; he merely answered her query, and skim on. At size, fairly exhausted by the try and be amused along with her personal ebook, which she had solely chosen as a result of it was the second quantity of his, she gave an awesome yawn and mentioned, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”

    No one made any reply. She then yawned once more, threw apart her ebook, and forged her eyes around the room in quest for some amusement; when listening to her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned out of the blue in the direction of him and mentioned:

    “By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure.”

    “If you mean Darcy,” cried her brother, “he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins—but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough, I shall send round my cards.”

    “I should like balls infinitely better,” she replied, “if they were carried on in a different manner; but there is something insufferably tedious in the usual process of such a meeting. It would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day.”

    “Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball.”

    Miss Bingley made no reply, and shortly afterwards she acquired up and walked in regards to the room. Her determine was elegant, and he or she walked effectively; however Darcy, at whom it was all aimed, was nonetheless inflexibly studious. In the desperation of her emotions, she resolved on one effort extra, and, turning to Elizabeth, mentioned:

    “Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”

    Elizabeth was stunned, however agreed to it instantly. Miss Bingley succeeded no much less in the actual object of her civility; Mr. Darcy regarded up. He was as a lot awake to the novelty of consideration in that quarter as Elizabeth herself might be, and unconsciously closed his ebook. He was instantly invited to hitch their celebration, however he declined it, observing that he may think about however two motives for his or her selecting to stroll up and down the room collectively, with both of which motives his becoming a member of them would intervene. “What could he mean? She was dying to know what could be his meaning?”—and requested Elizabeth whether or not she may in any respect perceive him?

    “Not at all,” was her reply; “but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”

    Miss Bingley, nonetheless, was incapable of disappointing Mr. Darcy in something, and persevered due to this fact in requiring a proof of his two motives.

    “I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” mentioned he, as quickly as she allowed him to talk. “You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”

    “Oh! shocking!” cried Miss Bingley. “I never heard anything so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?”

    “Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,” mentioned Elizabeth. “We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him—laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”

    “But upon my honour, I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of manner and presence of mind! No, no; I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject. Mr. Darcy may hug himself.”

    “Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!” cried Elizabeth. “That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh.”

    “Miss Bingley,” mentioned he, “has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men—nay, the wisest and best of their actions—may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”

    “Certainly,” replied Elizabeth—”there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, dodivert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”

    “Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”

    “Such as vanity and pride.”

    “Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride—where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”

    Elizabeth turned away to cover a smile.

    “Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume,” mentioned Miss Bingley; “and pray what is the result?”

    “I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.”

    “No,” mentioned Darcy, “I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding—certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”

    “That is a failing indeed!” cried Elizabeth. “Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”

    “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”

    “And your defect is to hate everybody.”

    “And yours,” he replied with a smile, “is willfully to misunderstand them.”

    “Do let us have a little music,” cried Miss Bingley, bored with a dialog by which she had no share. “Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?”

    Her sister had not the smallest objection, and the pianoforte was opened; and Darcy, after just a few moments’ recollection, was not sorry for it. He started to really feel the hazard of paying Elizabeth an excessive amount of consideration.

    Chapter 12

    In consequence of an settlement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the following morning to their mom, to beg that the carriage is likely to be despatched for them in the middle of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at Netherfield until the next Tuesday, which might precisely end Jane’s week, couldn’t convey herself to obtain them with pleasure earlier than. Her reply, due to this fact, was not propitious, a minimum of to not Elizabeth’s needs, for she was impatient to get residence. Mrs. Bennet despatched them phrase that they might not presumably have the carriage earlier than Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them to remain longer, she may spare them very effectively. Against staying longer, nonetheless, Elizabeth was positively resolved—nor did she a lot anticipate it could be requested; and fearful, quite the opposite, as being thought-about as intruding themselves needlessly lengthy, she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley’s carriage instantly, and at size it was settled that their authentic design of leaving Netherfield that morning needs to be talked about, and the request made.

    The communication excited many professions of concern; and sufficient was mentioned of wishing them to remain a minimum of until the next day to work on Jane; and until the morrow their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of 1 sister a lot exceeded her affection for the opposite.

    The grasp of the home heard with actual sorrow that they have been to go so quickly, and repeatedly tried to influence Miss Bennet that it could not be secure for her—that she was not sufficient recovered; however Jane was agency the place she felt herself to be proper.

    To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence—Elizabeth had been at Netherfield lengthy sufficient. She attracted him greater than he appreciated—and Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and extra teasing than ordinary to himself. He properly resolved to be significantly cautious that no signal of admiration ought to now escape him, nothing that would elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; smart that if such an concept had been advised, his behaviour over the past day will need to have materials weight in confirming or crushing it. Steady to his objective, he scarcely spoke ten phrases to her by means of the entire of Saturday, and although they have been at one time left by themselves for half-an-hour, he adhered most rigorously to his ebook, and wouldn’t even have a look at her.

    On Sunday, after morning service, the separation, so agreeable to virtually all, passed off. Miss Bingley’s civility to Elizabeth elevated finally very quickly, in addition to her affection for Jane; and once they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure it could at all times give her to see her both at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook arms with the previous. Elizabeth took go away of the entire celebration within the liveliest of spirits.

    They weren’t welcomed residence very cordially by their mom. Mrs. Bennet puzzled at their coming, and thought them very unsuitable to present a lot hassle, and was positive Jane would have caught chilly once more. But their father, although very laconic in his expressions of delight, was actually glad to see them; he had felt their significance within the household circle. The night dialog, once they have been all assembled, had misplaced a lot of its animation, and virtually all its sense by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.

    They discovered Mary, as ordinary, deep within the research of thorough-bass and human nature; and had some extracts to admire, and a few new observations of threadbare morality to take heed to. Catherine and Lydia had data for them of a distinct type. Much had been performed and far had been mentioned within the regiment for the reason that previous Wednesday; a number of of the officers had dined these days with their uncle, a personal had been flogged, and it had really been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.

    Chapter 13

    “I hope, my dear,” mentioned Mr. Bennet to his spouse, as they have been at breakfast the following morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”

    “Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in—and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”

    “The person of whom I speak is a gentleman, and a stranger.”

    Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled. “A gentleman and a stranger! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. But—good Lord! how unlucky! There is not a bit of fish to be got to-day. Lydia, my love, ring the bell—I must speak to Hill this moment.”

    “It is not Mr. Bingley,” mentioned her husband; “it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”

    This roused a basic astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his spouse and his 5 daughters directly.

    After amusing himself a while with their curiosity, he thus defined:

    “About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”

    “Oh! my dear,” cried his spouse, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”

    Jane and Elizabeth tried to clarify to her the character of an entail. They had usually tried to do it earlier than, but it surely was a topic on which Mrs. Bennet was past the attain of purpose, and he or she continued to rail bitterly towards the cruelty of settling an property away from a household of 5 daughters, in favour of a person whom no person cared something about.

    “It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” mentioned Mr. Bennet, “and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”

    “No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it is very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could he not keep on quarreling with you, as his father did before him?”

    “Why, indeed; he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear.”

    “Hunsford, close to Westerham, Kent, 15th October.

    “Dear Sir,—

    “The disagreement subsisting between your self and my late honoured father at all times gave me a lot uneasiness, and since I’ve had the misfortune to lose him, I’ve steadily wished to heal the breach; however for a while I used to be saved again by my very own doubts, fearing lest it might sound disrespectful to his reminiscence for me to be on good phrases with anybody with whom it had at all times happy him to be at variance.—’There, Mrs. Bennet.’—My thoughts, nonetheless, is now made up on the topic, for having acquired ordination at Easter, I’ve been so lucky as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has most popular me to the precious rectory of this parish, the place it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect in the direction of her ladyship, and be ever able to carry out these rites and ceremonies that are instituted by the Church of England. As a priest, furthermore, I really feel it my obligation to advertise and set up the blessing of peace in all households throughout the attain of my affect; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my current overtures are extremely commendable, and that the circumstance of my being subsequent within the entail of Longbourn property will likely be kindly missed in your aspect, and never lead you to reject the provided olive-branch. I can’t be in any other case than involved at being the technique of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg go away to apologise for it, in addition to to guarantee you of my readiness to make them each doable amends—however of this hereafter. If you should not have any objection to obtain me into your own home, I suggest myself the satisfaction of ready on you and your loved ones, Monday, November 18th, by 4 o’clock, and shall most likely trespass in your hospitality until the Saturday se’ennight following, which I can do with none inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is much from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, offered that another clergyman is engaged to do the obligation of the day.—I stay, expensive sir, with respectful compliments to your girl and daughters, your well-wisher and buddy,

    “WILLIAM COLLINS”

    “At four o’clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman,” mentioned Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter. “He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word, and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again.”

    “There is some sense in what he says about the girls, however, and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him.”

    “Though it is difficult,” mentioned Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit.”

    Elizabeth was mainly struck by his extraordinary deference for Lady Catherine, and his variety intention of christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners every time it have been required.

    “He must be an oddity, I think,” mentioned she. “I cannot make him out.—There is something very pompous in his style.—And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail?—We cannot suppose he would help it if he could.—Could he be a sensible man, sir?”

    “No, my dear, I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well. I am impatient to see him.”

    “In point of composition,” mentioned Mary, “the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed.”

    To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its author have been in any diploma fascinating. It was subsequent to unattainable that their cousin ought to are available a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since that they had acquired pleasure from the society of a person in another color. As for his or her mom, Mr. Collins’s letter had performed away a lot of her ill-will, and he or she was making ready to see him with a level of composure which astonished her husband and daughters.

    Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was acquired with nice politeness by the entire household. Mr. Bennet certainly mentioned little; however the women have been prepared sufficient to speak, and Mr. Collins appeared neither in want of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking younger man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners have been very formal. He had not been lengthy seated earlier than he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so superb a household of daughters; mentioned he had heard a lot of their magnificence, however that on this occasion fame had fallen wanting the reality; and added, that he didn’t doubt her seeing all of them in due time disposed of in marriage. This gallantry was not a lot to the style of a few of his hearers; however Mrs. Bennet, who quarreled with no compliments, answered most readily.

    “You are very kind, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.”

    “You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.”

    “Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.”

    “I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more; but, perhaps, when we are better acquainted—”

    He was interrupted by a summons to dinner; and the women smiled on one another. They weren’t the one objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The corridor, the dining-room, and all its furnishings, have been examined and praised; and his commendation of all the things would have touched Mrs. Bennet’s coronary heart, however for the mortifying supposition of his viewing all of it as his personal future property. The dinner too in its flip was extremely admired; and he begged to know to which of his truthful cousins the excellency of its cooking was owing. But he was set proper there by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him with some asperity that they have been very effectively capable of preserve prepare dinner, and that her daughters had nothing to do within the kitchen. He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself by no means offended; however he continued to apologise for a couple of quarter of an hour.

    Chapter 14

    During dinner, Mr. Bennet scarcely spoke in any respect; however when the servants have been withdrawn, he thought it time to have some dialog along with his visitor, and due to this fact began a topic by which he anticipated him to shine, by observing that he appeared very lucky in his patroness. Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s consideration to his needs, and consideration for his consolation, appeared very exceptional. Mr. Bennet couldn’t have chosen higher. Mr. Collins was eloquent in her reward. The topic elevated him to greater than ordinary solemnity of method, and with a most vital facet he protested that “he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady Catherine. She had been graciously pleased to approve of both of the discourses which he had already had the honour of preaching before her. She had also asked him twice to dine at Rosings, and had sent for him only the Saturday before, to make up her pool of quadrille in the evening. Lady Catherine was reckoned proud by many people he knew, but he had never seen anything but affability in her. She had always spoken to him as she would to any other gentleman; she made not the smallest objection to his joining in the society of the neighbourhood nor to his leaving the parish occasionally for a week or two, to visit his relations. She had even condescended to advise him to marry as soon as he could, provided he chose with discretion; and had once paid him a visit in his humble parsonage, where she had perfectly approved all the alterations he had been making, and had even vouchsafed to suggest some herself—some shelves in the closet up stairs.”

    “That is all very proper and civil, I am sure,” mentioned Mrs. Bennet, “and I dare say she is a very agreeable woman. It is a pity that great ladies in general are not more like her. Does she live near you, sir?”

    “The garden in which stands my humble abode is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship’s residence.”

    “I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?”

    “She has only one daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property.”

    “Ah!” mentioned Mrs. Bennet, shaking her head, “then she is better off than many girls. And what sort of young lady is she? Is she handsome?”

    “She is a most charming young lady indeed. Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss de Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex, because there is that in her features which marks the young lady of distinguished birth. She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her from making that progress in many accomplishments which she could not have otherwise failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended her education, and who still resides with them. But she is perfectly amiable, and often condescends to drive by my humble abode in her little phaeton and ponies.”

    “Has she been presented? I do not remember her name among the ladies at court.”

    “Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornament. Her ladyship seemed pleased with the idea; and you may imagine that I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies. I have more than once observed to Lady Catherine, that her charming daughter seemed born to be a duchess, and that the most elevated rank, instead of giving her consequence, would be adorned by her. These are the kind of little things which please her ladyship, and it is a sort of attention which I conceive myself peculiarly bound to pay.”

    “You judge very properly,” mentioned Mr. Bennet, “and it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?”

    “They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.”

    Mr. Bennet’s expectations have been absolutely answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, sustaining on the similar time essentially the most resolute composure of countenance, and, besides in an occasional look at Elizabeth, requiring no companion in his pleasure.

    By tea-time, nonetheless, the dose had been sufficient, and Mr. Bennet was glad to take his visitor into the drawing-room once more, and, when tea was over, glad to ask him to learn aloud to the women. Mr. Collins readily assented, and a ebook was produced; however, on beholding it (for all the things introduced it to be from a circulating library), he began again, and begging pardon, protested that he by no means learn novels. Kitty stared at him, and Lydia exclaimed. Other books have been produced, and after some deliberation he selected Fordyce’s Sermons. Lydia gaped as he opened the amount, and earlier than he had, with very monotonous solemnity, learn three pages, she interrupted him with:

    “Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him. My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”

    Lydia was bid by her two eldest sisters to carry her tongue; however Mr. Collins, a lot offended, laid apart his ebook, and mentioned:

    “I have often observed how little young ladies are interested by books of a serious stamp, though written solely for their benefit. It amazes me, I confess; for, certainly, there can be nothing so advantageous to them as instruction. But I will no longer importune my young cousin.”

    Then turning to Mr. Bennet, he provided himself as his antagonist at backgammon. Mr. Bennet accepted the problem, observing that he acted very properly in leaving the women to their very own trifling amusements. Mrs. Bennet and her daughters apologised most civilly for Lydia’s interruption, and promised that it shouldn’t happen once more, if he would resume his ebook; however Mr. Collins, after assuring them that he bore his younger cousin no ill-will, and will by no means resent her behaviour as any affront, seated himself at one other desk with Mr. Bennet, and ready for backgammon.

    Chapter 15

    Mr. Collins was not a wise man, and the deficiency of nature had been however little assisted by training or society; the best a part of his life having been spent below the steering of an illiterate and miserly father; and although he belonged to one of many universities, he had merely saved the mandatory phrases, with out forming at it any helpful acquaintance. The subjection by which his father had introduced him up had given him initially nice humility of method; but it surely was now deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, dwelling in retirement, and the consequential emotions of early and surprising prosperity. A lucky likelihood had really helpful him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the dwelling of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her excessive rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with an excellent opinion of himself, of his authority as a priest, and his proper as a rector, made him altogether a mix of delight and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.

    Having now home and a really ample earnings, he supposed to marry; and in searching for a reconciliation with the Longbourn household he had a spouse in view, as he meant to decide on one of many daughters, if he discovered them as good-looking and amiable as they have been represented by widespread report. This was his plan of amends—of atonement—for inheriting their father’s property; and he thought it a wonderful one, stuffed with eligibility and suitableness, and excessively beneficiant and disinterested on his personal half.

    His plan didn’t range on seeing them. Miss Bennet’s pretty face confirmed his views, and established all his strictest notions of what was on account of seniority; and for the primary night she was his settled selection. The subsequent morning, nonetheless, made an alteration; for in 1 / 4 of an hour’s tete-a-tete with Mrs. Bennet earlier than breakfast, a dialog starting along with his parsonage-house, and main naturally to the avowal of his hopes, {that a} mistress is likely to be discovered for it at Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and basic encouragement, a warning towards the very Jane he had mounted on. “As to her younger daughters, she could not take upon her to say—she could not positively answer—but she did not know of any prepossession; her eldest daughter, she must just mention—she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.”

    Mr. Collins had solely to alter from Jane to Elizabeth—and it was quickly performed—performed whereas Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fireplace. Elizabeth, equally subsequent to Jane in delivery and wonder, succeeded her in fact.

    Mrs. Bennet treasured up the trace, and trusted that she may quickly have two daughters married; and the person whom she couldn’t bear to talk of the day earlier than was now excessive in her good graces.

    Lydia’s intention of strolling to Meryton was not forgotten; each sister besides Mary agreed to go along with her; and Mr. Collins was to attend them, on the request of Mr. Bennet, who was most anxious to eliminate him, and have his library to himself; for thither Mr. Collins had adopted him after breakfast; and there he would proceed, nominally engaged with one of many largest folios within the assortment, however actually speaking to Mr. Bennet, with little cessation, of his home and backyard at Hunsford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been at all times positive of leisure and tranquillity; and although ready, as he informed Elizabeth, to fulfill with folly and self-esteem in each different room of the home, he was was once free from them there; his civility, due to this fact, was most immediate in inviting Mr. Collins to hitch his daughters of their stroll; and Mr. Collins, being actually significantly better fitted for a walker than a reader, was extraordinarily happy to shut his giant ebook, and go.

    In pompous nothings on his aspect, and civil assents on that of his cousins, their time handed until they entered Meryton. The consideration of the youthful ones was then not to be gained by him. Their eyes have been instantly wandering up on the street in quest of the officers, and nothing lower than a really sensible bonnet certainly, or a very new muslin in a store window, may recall them.

    But the eye of each girl was quickly caught by a younger man, whom that they had by no means seen earlier than, of most gentlemanlike look, strolling with one other officer on the opposite aspect of the best way. The officer was the very Mr. Denny regarding whose return from London Lydia got here to inquire, and he bowed as they handed. All have been struck with the stranger’s air, all puzzled who he might be; and Kitty and Lydia, decided if doable to seek out out, led the best way throughout the road, below pretense of wanting one thing in an reverse store, and happily had simply gained the pavement when the 2 gents, turning again, had reached the identical spot. Mr. Denny addressed them instantly, and advised permission to introduce his buddy, Mr. Wickham, who had returned with him the day earlier than from city, and he was glad to say had accepted a fee of their corps. This was precisely accurately; for the younger man wished solely regimentals to make him fully charming. His look was significantly in his favour; he had all one of the best a part of magnificence, a superb countenance, determine, and really pleasing handle. The introduction was adopted up on his aspect by a cheerful readiness of dialog—a readiness on the similar time completely right and unassuming; and the entire celebration have been nonetheless standing and speaking collectively very agreeably, when the sound of horses drew their discover, and Darcy and Bingley have been seen driving down the road. On distinguishing the women of the group, the 2 gents got here instantly in the direction of them, and commenced the same old civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object. He was then, he mentioned, on his option to Longbourn on objective to inquire after her. Mr. Darcy corroborated it with a bow, and was starting to find out to not repair his eyes on Elizabeth, once they have been out of the blue arrested by the sight of the stranger, and Elizabeth occurring to see the countenance of each as they checked out one another, was all astonishment on the impact of the assembly. Both modified color, one regarded white, the opposite purple. Mr. Wickham, after just a few moments, touched his hat—a salutation which Mr. Darcy simply deigned to return. What might be the that means of it? It was unattainable to think about; it was unattainable to not lengthy to know.

    In one other minute, Mr. Bingley, however with out seeming to have seen what handed, took go away and rode on along with his buddy.

    Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham walked with the younger women to the door of Mr. Phillip’s home, after which made their bows, regardless of Miss Lydia’s urgent entreaties that they need to are available, and even regardless of Mrs. Phillips’s throwing up the parlour window and loudly seconding the invitation.

    Mrs. Phillips was at all times glad to see her nieces; and the 2 eldest, from their latest absence, have been significantly welcome, and he or she was eagerly expressing her shock at their sudden return residence, which, as their very own carriage had not fetched them, she ought to have recognized nothing about, if she had not occurred to see Mr. Jones’s shop-boy on the street, who had informed her that they have been to not ship any extra draughts to Netherfield as a result of the Miss Bennets have been come away, when her civility was claimed in the direction of Mr. Collins by Jane’s introduction of him. She acquired him along with her best politeness, which he returned with as far more, apologising for his intrusion, with none earlier acquaintance along with her, which he couldn’t assist flattering himself, nonetheless, is likely to be justified by his relationship to the younger women who launched him to her discover. Mrs. Phillips was fairly awed by such an extra of fine breeding; however her contemplation of 1 stranger was quickly put to an finish by exclamations and inquiries in regards to the different; of whom, nonetheless, she may solely inform her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had introduced him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s fee within the ——shire. She had been watching him the final hour, she mentioned, as he walked up and down the road, and had Mr. Wickham appeared, Kitty and Lydia would definitely have continued the occupation, however unluckily nobody handed home windows now besides just a few of the officers, who, compared with the stranger, have been turn into “stupid, disagreeable fellows.” Some of them have been to dine with the Phillipses the following day, and their aunt promised to make her husband name on Mr. Wickham, and provides him an invite additionally, if the household from Longbourn would come within the night. This was agreed to, and Mrs. Phillips protested that they’d have a pleasant snug noisy recreation of lottery tickets, and a little bit little bit of scorching supper afterwards. The prospect of such delights was very cheering, they usually parted in mutual good spirits. Mr. Collins repeated his apologies in quitting the room, and was assured with unwearying civility that they have been completely pointless.

    As they walked residence, Elizabeth associated to Jane what she had seen cross between the 2 gents; however although Jane would have defended both or each, had they seemed to be within the unsuitable, she may no extra clarify such behaviour than her sister.

    Mr. Collins on his return extremely gratified Mrs. Bennet by admiring Mrs. Phillips’s manners and politeness. He protested that, besides Lady Catherine and her daughter, he had by no means seen a extra elegant lady; for she had not solely acquired him with the utmost civility, however even pointedly included him in her invitation for the following night, though totally unknown to her earlier than. Something, he supposed, is likely to be attributed to his reference to them, however but he had by no means met with a lot consideration in the entire course of his life.

    Chapter 16

    As no objection was made to the younger individuals’s engagement with their aunt, and all Mr. Collins’s scruples of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for a single night throughout his go to have been most steadily resisted, the coach conveyed him and his 5 cousins at an appropriate hour to Meryton; and the women had the pleasure of listening to, as they entered the drawing-room, that Mr. Wickham had accepted their uncle’s invitation, and was then in the home.

    When this data was given, they usually had all taken their seats, Mr. Collins was at leisure to go searching him and admire, and he was a lot struck with the dimensions and furnishings of the residence, that he declared he may virtually have supposed himself within the small summer time breakfast parlour at Rosings; a comparability that didn’t at first convey a lot gratification; however when Mrs. Phillips understood from him what Rosings was, and who was its proprietor—when she had listened to the outline of solely certainly one of Lady Catherine’s drawing-rooms, and located that the chimney-piece alone had value eight hundred kilos, she felt all of the drive of the praise, and would hardly have resented a comparability with the housekeeper’s room.

    In describing to her all of the grandeur of Lady Catherine and her mansion, with occasional digressions in reward of his personal humble abode, and the enhancements it was receiving, he was fortunately employed till the gents joined them; and he present in Mrs. Phillips a really attentive listener, whose opinion of his consequence elevated with what she heard, and who was resolving to retail all of it amongst her neighbours as quickly as she may. To the women, who couldn’t take heed to their cousin, and who had nothing to do however to want for an instrument, and study their very own detached imitations of china on the mantelpiece, the interval of ready appeared very lengthy. It was over finally, nonetheless. The gents did strategy, and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth felt that she had neither been seeing him earlier than, nor pondering of him since, with the smallest diploma of unreasonable admiration. The officers of the ——shire have been typically a really creditable, gentlemanlike set, and one of the best of them have been of the current celebration; however Mr. Wickham was as far past all of them in particular person, countenance, air, and stroll, as they have been superior to the broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips, respiration port wine, who adopted them into the room.

    Mr. Wickham was the glad man in the direction of whom virtually each feminine eye was turned, and Elizabeth was the glad lady by whom he lastly seated himself; and the agreeable method by which he instantly fell into dialog, although it was solely on its being a moist evening, made her really feel that the most typical, dullest, most threadbare subject is likely to be rendered fascinating by the talent of the speaker.

    With such rivals for the discover of the truthful as Mr. Wickham and the officers, Mr. Collins appeared to sink into insignificance; to the younger women he definitely was nothing; however he had nonetheless at intervals a form listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was by her watchfulness, most abundantly equipped with espresso and muffin. When the card-tables have been positioned, he had the chance of obliging her in flip, by sitting all the way down to whist.

    “I know little of the game at present,” mentioned he, “but I shall be glad to improve myself, for in my situation in life—” Mrs. Phillips was very glad for his compliance, however couldn’t look forward to his purpose.

    Mr. Wickham didn’t play at whist, and with prepared delight was he acquired on the different desk between Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there appeared hazard of Lydia’s engrossing him fully, for she was a most decided talker; however being likewise extraordinarily keen on lottery tickets, she quickly grew an excessive amount of within the recreation, too keen in making bets and exclaiming after prizes to have consideration for anybody specifically. Allowing for the widespread calls for of the sport, Mr. Wickham was due to this fact at leisure to speak to Elizabeth, and he or she was very prepared to listen to him, although what she mainly wished to listen to she couldn’t hope to be informed—the historical past of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She dared not even point out that gentleman. Her curiosity, nonetheless, was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham started the topic himself. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her reply, requested in a hesitating method how lengthy Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

    “About a month,” mentioned Elizabeth; after which, unwilling to let the topic drop, added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand.”

    “Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum. You could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”

    Elizabeth couldn’t however look stunned.

    “You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, at such an assertion, after seeing, as you probably might, the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

    “As much as I ever wish to be,” cried Elizabeth very warmly. “I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”

    “I have no right to give my opinion,” mentioned Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I am not qualified to form one. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish—and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”

    “Upon my word, I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”

    “I cannot pretend to be sorry,” mentioned Wickham, after a brief interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”

    “I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man.” Wickham solely shook his head.

    “I wonder,” mentioned he, on the subsequent alternative of talking, “whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”

    “I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ——shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”

    “Oh! no—it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage, and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had; and I can never be in company with this Mr. Darcy without being grieved to the soul by a thousand tender recollections. His behaviour to myself has been scandalous; but I verily believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.”

    Elizabeth discovered the curiosity of the topic enhance, and listened with all her coronary heart; however the delicacy of it prevented additional inquiry.

    Mr. Wickham started to talk on extra basic matters, Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, showing extremely happy with all that he had but seen, and talking of the latter with light however very intelligible gallantry.

    “It was the prospect of constant society, and good society,” he added, “which was my chief inducement to enter the ——shire. I knew it to be a most respectable, agreeable corps, and my friend Denny tempted me further by his account of their present quarters, and the very great attentions and excellent acquaintances Meryton had procured them. Society, I own, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for, but circumstances have now made it eligible. The church ought to have been my profession—I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.”

    “Indeed!”

    “Yes—the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the next presentation of the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. I cannot do justice to his kindness. He meant to provide for me amply, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”

    “Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”

    “There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it—or to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation, and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence—in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion of him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”

    “This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

    “Some time or other he will be—but it shall not be by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”

    Elizabeth honoured him for such emotions, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.

    “But what,” mentioned she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”

    “A thorough, determined dislike of me—a dislike which I cannot but attribute in some measure to jealousy. Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better; but his father’s uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood—the sort of preference which was often given me.”

    “I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this—though I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this.”

    After a couple of minutes’ reflection, nonetheless, she continued, “I do remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful.”

    “I will not trust myself on the subject,” replied Wickham; “I can hardly be just to him.”

    Elizabeth was once more deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!” She may have added, “A young man, too, like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable”—however she contented herself with, “and one, too, who had probably been his companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!”

    “We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together; inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father began life in the profession which your uncle, Mr. Phillips, appears to do so much credit to—but he gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father’s active superintendence, and when, immediately before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of his affection to myself.”

    “How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest—for dishonesty I must call it.”

    “It is wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling. But we are none of us consistent, and in his behaviour to me there were stronger impulses even than pride.”

    “Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

    “Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride—for he is very proud of what his father was—have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers.”

    “What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

    He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother—very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father’s death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education.”

    After many pauses and lots of trials of different topics, Elizabeth couldn’t assist reverting as soon as extra to the primary, and saying:

    “I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”

    “Not at all.”

    “He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is.”

    “Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. He can be a conversible companion if he thinks it worth his while. Among those who are at all his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable—allowing something for fortune and figure.”

    The whist celebration quickly afterwards breaking apart, the gamers gathered spherical the opposite desk and Mr. Collins took his station between his cousin Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The ordinary inquiries as to his success was made by the latter. It had not been very nice; he had misplaced each level; however when Mrs. Phillips started to specific her concern thereupon, he assured her with a lot earnest gravity that it was not of the least significance, that he thought-about the cash as a mere trifle, and begged that she wouldn’t make herself uneasy.

    “I know very well, madam,” mentioned he, “that when persons sit down to a card-table, they must take their chances of these things, and happily I am not in such circumstances as to make five shillings any object. There are undoubtedly many who could not say the same, but thanks to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed far beyond the necessity of regarding little matters.”

    Mr. Wickham’s consideration was caught; and after observing Mr. Collins for just a few moments, he requested Elizabeth in a low voice whether or not her relation was very intimately acquainted with the household of de Bourgh.

    “Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she replied, “has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”

    “You know of course that Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy were sisters; consequently that she is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy.”

    “No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine’s connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”

    “Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will have a very large fortune, and it is believed that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”

    This data made Elizabeth smile, as she considered poor Miss Bingley. Vain certainly have to be all her attentions, useless and ineffective her affection for his sister and her reward of himself, if he have been already self-destined for one more.

    “Mr. Collins,” mentioned she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”

    “I believe her to be both in a great degree,” replied Wickham; “I have not seen her for many years, but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent. She has the reputation of being remarkably sensible and clever; but I rather believe she derives part of her abilities from her rank and fortune, part from her authoritative manner, and the rest from the pride for her nephew, who chooses that everyone connected with him should have an understanding of the first class.”

    Elizabeth allowed that he had given a really rational account of it, they usually continued speaking collectively, with mutual satisfaction until supper put an finish to playing cards, and gave the remainder of the women their share of Mr. Wickham’s attentions. There might be no dialog within the noise of Mrs. Phillips’s supper celebration, however his manners really helpful him to everyone. Whatever he mentioned, was mentioned effectively; and no matter he did, performed gracefully. Elizabeth went away along with her head stuffed with him. She may consider nothing however of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had informed her, all the best way residence; however there was not time for her even to say his identify as they went, for neither Lydia nor Mr. Collins have been as soon as silent. Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets, of the fish she had misplaced and the fish she had gained; and Mr. Collins in describing the civility of Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he didn’t within the least regard his losses at whist, enumerating all of the dishes at supper, and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins, had extra to say than he may effectively handle earlier than the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.

    Chapter 17

    Elizabeth associated to Jane the following day what had handed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she knew not consider that Mr. Darcy might be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard; and but, it was not in her nature to query the veracity of a younger man of such amiable look as Wickham. The risk of his having endured such unkindness, was sufficient to curiosity all her tender emotions; and nothing remained due to this fact to be performed, however to suppose effectively of them each, to defend the conduct of every, and throw into the account of accident or mistake no matter couldn’t be in any other case defined.

    “They have both,” mentioned she, “been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side.”

    “Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody.”

    “Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father’s favourite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no.”

    “I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley’s being imposed on, than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”

    “It is difficult indeed—it is distressing. One does not know what to think.”

    “I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.”

    But Jane may suppose with certainty on just one level—that Mr. Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have a lot to endure when the affair turned public.

    The two younger women have been summoned from the shrubbery, the place this dialog handed, by the arrival of the very individuals of whom that they had been talking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters got here to present their private invitation for the long-expected ball at Netherfield, which was mounted for the next Tuesday. The two women have been delighted to see their expensive buddy once more, known as it an age since that they had met, and repeatedly requested what she had been doing with herself since their separation. To the remainder of the household they paid little consideration; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as a lot as doable, saying not a lot to Elizabeth, and nothing in any respect to the others. They have been quickly gone once more, rising from their seats with an exercise which took their brother without warning, and hurrying off as if keen to flee from Mrs. Bennet’s civilities.

    The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extraordinarily agreeable to each feminine of the household. Mrs. Bennet selected to contemplate it as given in praise to her eldest daughter, and was significantly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, as an alternative of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a cheerful night within the society of her two buddies, and the attentions of their brother; and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing an awesome cope with Mr. Wickham, and of seeing a affirmation of all the things in Mr. Darcy’s look and behavior. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended much less on any single occasion, or any specific particular person, for although they every, like Elizabeth, meant to bounce half the night with Mr. Wickham, he was not at all the one companion who may fulfill them, and a ball was, at any fee, a ball. And even Mary may guarantee her household that she had no disinclination for it.

    “While I can have my mornings to myself,” mentioned she, “it is enough—I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.”

    Elizabeth’s spirits have been so excessive on this event, that although she didn’t usually communicate unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she couldn’t assist asking him whether or not he supposed to just accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation, and if he did, whether or not he would suppose it correct to hitch within the night’s amusement; and he or she was moderately stunned to seek out that he entertained no scruple no matter on that head, and was very removed from dreading a rebuke both from the Archbishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to bounce.

    “I am by no means of the opinion, I assure you,” mentioned he, “that a ball of this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her.”

    Elizabeth felt herself fully taken in. She had absolutely proposed being engaged by Mr. Wickham for these very dances; and to have Mr. Collins as an alternative! her liveliness had by no means been worse timed. There was no assist for it, nonetheless. Mr. Wickham’s happiness and her personal have been perforce delayed a little bit longer, and Mr. Collins’s proposal accepted with pretty much as good a grace as she may. She was not the higher happy along with his gallantry from the thought it advised of one thing extra. It now first struck her, that she was chosen from amongst her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of aiding to kind a quadrille desk at Rosings, within the absence of extra eligible guests. The concept quickly reached to conviction, as she noticed his growing civilities towards herself, and heard his frequent try at a praise on her wit and vivacity; and although extra astonished than gratified herself by this impact of her charms, it was not lengthy earlier than her mom gave her to know that the chance of their marriage was extraordinarily agreeable to her. Elizabeth, nonetheless, didn’t select to take the trace, being effectively conscious {that a} severe dispute have to be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins may by no means make the supply, and until he did, it was ineffective to quarrel about him.

    If there had not been a Netherfield ball to arrange for and discuss of, the youthful Miss Bennets would have been in a really pitiable state right now, for from the day of the invitation, to the day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their strolling to Meryton as soon as. No aunt, no officers, no information might be wanted—the very shoe-roses for Netherfield have been acquired by proxy. Even Elizabeth may need discovered some trial of her endurance in climate which completely suspended the development of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham; and nothing lower than a dance on Tuesday, may have made such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia.

    Chapter 18

    Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and regarded in useless for Mr. Wickham among the many cluster of purple coats there assembled, a doubt of his being current had by no means occurred to her. The certainty of assembly him had not been checked by any of these recollections that may not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with greater than ordinary care, and ready within the highest spirits for the conquest of all that remained unsubdued of his coronary heart, trusting that it was no more than is likely to be gained in the middle of the night. But right away arose the dreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy’s pleasure within the Bingleys’ invitation to the officers; and although this was not precisely the case, absolutely the truth of his absence was pronounced by his buddy Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly utilized, and who informed them that Wickham had been obliged to go to city on enterprise the day earlier than, and was not but returned; including, with a major smile, “I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wanted to avoid a certain gentleman here.”

    This a part of his intelligence, although unheard by Lydia, was caught by Elizabeth, and, because it assured her that Darcy was not much less answerable for Wickham’s absence than if her first surmise had been simply, each feeling of displeasure towards the previous was so sharpened by fast disappointment, that she may hardly reply with tolerable civility to the well mannered inquiries which he instantly afterwards approached to make. Attendance, forbearance, endurance with Darcy, was damage to Wickham. She was resolved towards any kind of dialog with him, and turned away with a level of ill-humour which she couldn’t wholly surmount even in talking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partiality provoked her.

    But Elizabeth was not shaped for ill-humour; and although each prospect of her personal was destroyed for the night, it couldn’t dwell lengthy on her spirits; and having informed all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen for per week, she was quickly capable of make a voluntary transition to the eccentricities of her cousin, and to level him out to her specific discover. The first two dances, nonetheless, introduced a return of misery; they have been dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, apologising as an alternative of attending, and infrequently shifting unsuitable with out being conscious of it, gave her all of the disgrace and distress which a unpleasant companion for a few dances can provide. The second of her launch from him was ecstasy.

    She danced subsequent with an officer, and had the refreshment of speaking of Wickham, and of listening to that he was universally appreciated. When these dances have been over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in dialog along with her, when she discovered herself out of the blue addressed by Mr. Darcy who took her a lot without warning in his utility for her hand, that, with out figuring out what she did, she accepted him. He walked away once more instantly, and he or she was left to stress over her personal need of presence of thoughts; Charlotte tried to console her:

    “I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”

    “Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”

    When the dancing recommenced, nonetheless, and Darcy approached to say her hand, Charlotte couldn’t assist cautioning her in a whisper, to not be a simpleton, and permit her fancy for Wickham to make her seem disagreeable within the eyes of a person ten instances his consequence. Elizabeth made no reply, and took her place within the set, amazed on the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to face reverse to Mr. Darcy, and studying in her neighbours’ seems to be, their equal amazement in beholding it. They stood for a while with out talking a phrase; and he or she started to think about that their silence was to final by means of the 2 dances, and at first was resolved to not break it; until out of the blue fancying that it could be the better punishment to her companion to oblige him to speak, she made some slight statement on the dance. He replied, and was once more silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:—”It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”

    He smiled, and guaranteed her that no matter she wished him to say needs to be mentioned.

    “Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”

    “Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”

    “Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”

    “Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”

    “Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”

    “This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” mentioned he. “How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”

    “I must not decide on my own performance.”

    He made no reply, they usually have been once more silent until that they had gone down the dance, when he requested her if she and her sisters didn’t fairly often stroll to Meryton. She answered within the affirmative, and, unable to withstand the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance.”

    The impact was fast. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his options, however he mentioned not a phrase, and Elizabeth, although blaming herself for her personal weak spot, couldn’t go on. At size Darcy spoke, and in a constrained method mentioned, “Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends—whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”

    “He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.”

    Darcy made no reply, and appeared desirous of adjusting the topic. At that second, Sir William Lucas appeared near them, that means to cross by means of the set to the opposite aspect of the room; however on perceiving Mr. Darcy, he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy to go with him on his dancing and his companion.

    “I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza (glancing at her sister and Bingley) shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy:—but let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”

    The latter a part of this handle was scarcely heard by Darcy; however Sir William’s allusion to his buddy appeared to strike him forcibly, and his eyes have been directed with a really severe expression in the direction of Bingley and Jane, who have been dancing collectively. Recovering himself, nonetheless, shortly, he turned to his companion, and mentioned, “Sir William’s interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”

    “I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”

    “What think you of books?” mentioned he, smiling.

    “Books—oh! no. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.”

    “I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”

    “No—I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else.”

    “The present always occupies you in such scenes—does it?” mentioned he, with a glance of doubt.

    “Yes, always,” she replied, with out figuring out what she mentioned, for her ideas had wandered removed from the topic, as quickly afterwards appeared by her out of the blue exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”

    “I am,” mentioned he, with a agency voice.

    “And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”

    “I hope not.”

    “It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.”

    “May I ask to what these questions tend?”

    “Merely to the illustration of your character,” mentioned she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”

    “And what is your success?”

    She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”

    “I can readily believe,” answered he gravely, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”

    “But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity.”

    “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied. She mentioned no extra, they usually went down the opposite dance and parted in silence; and on all sides dissatisfied, although to not an equal diploma, for in Darcy’s breast there was a tolerably highly effective feeling in the direction of her, which quickly procured her pardon, and directed all his anger towards one other.

    They had not lengthy separated, when Miss Bingley got here in the direction of her, and with an expression of civil disdain accosted her:

    “So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with George Wickham! Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me a thousand questions; and I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you, among his other communication, that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy’s using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know the particulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least to blame, that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned, and that though my brother thought that he could not well avoid including him in his invitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find that he had taken himself out of the way. His coming into the country at all is a most insolent thing, indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it. I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite’s guilt; but really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”

    “His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” mentioned Elizabeth angrily; “for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself.”

    “I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer. “Excuse my interference—it was kindly meant.”

    “Insolent girl!” mentioned Elizabeth to herself. “You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to make inquiries on the identical topic of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of such candy complacency, a glow of such glad expression, as sufficiently marked how effectively she was glad with the occurrences of the night. Elizabeth immediately learn her emotions, and at that second solicitude for Wickham, resentment towards his enemies, and all the things else, gave approach earlier than the hope of Jane’s being within the fairest approach for happiness.

    “I want to know,” mentioned she, with a countenance no much less smiling than her sister’s, “what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have been too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person; in which case you may be sure of my pardon.”

    “No,” replied Jane, “I have not forgotten him; but I have nothing satisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct, the probity, and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced that Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has received; and I am sorry to say by his account as well as his sister’s, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I am afraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy’s regard.”

    “Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?”

    “No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”

    “This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I am satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”

    “He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heard them from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left to him conditionally only.”

    “I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley’s sincerity,” mentioned Elizabeth warmly; “but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr. Bingley’s defense of his friend was a very able one, I dare say; but since he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learnt the rest from that friend himself, I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I did before.”

    She then modified the discourse to 1 extra gratifying to every, and on which there might be no distinction of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with delight to the glad, although modest hopes which Jane entertained of Mr. Bingley’s regard, and mentioned all in her energy to intensify her confidence in it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her final companion she had scarcely replied, earlier than Mr. Collins got here as much as them, and informed her with nice exultation that he had simply been so lucky as to make a most vital discovery.

    “I have found out,” mentioned he, “by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear the gentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours of the house the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who would have thought of my meeting with, perhaps, a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh in this assembly! I am most thankful that the discovery is made in time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do, and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My total ignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”

    “You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy!”

    “Indeed I am. I shall entreat his pardon for not having done it earlier. I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s nephew. It will be in my power to assure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se’nnight.”

    Elizabeth tried onerous to dissuade him from such a scheme, assuring him that Mr. Darcy would take into account his addressing him with out introduction as an impertinent freedom, moderately than a praise to his aunt; that it was not within the least vital there needs to be any discover on both aspect; and that if it have been, it should belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in consequence, to start the acquaintance. Mr. Collins listened to her with the decided air of following his personal inclination, and, when she ceased talking, replied thus:

    “My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom—provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like yourself.” And with a low bow he left her to assault Mr. Darcy, whose reception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment at being so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech with a solemn bow and although she couldn’t hear a phrase of it, she felt as if listening to all of it, and noticed within the movement of his lips the phrases “apology,” “Hunsford,” and “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.” It vexed her to see him expose himself to such a person. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained surprise, and when finally Mr. Collins allowed him time to talk, replied with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, nonetheless, was not discouraged from talking once more, and Mr. Darcy’s contempt appeared abundantly growing with the size of his second speech, and on the finish of it he solely made him a slight bow, and moved one other approach. Mr. Collins then returned to Elizabeth.

    “I have no reason, I assure you,” mentioned he, “to be dissatisfied with my reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine’s discernment as to be certain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a very handsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”

    As Elizabeth had not any curiosity of her personal to pursue, she turned her consideration virtually fully on her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the practice of agreeable reflections which her observations gave delivery to, made her maybe virtually as glad as Jane. She noticed her in concept settled in that very home, in all of the felicity which a wedding of true affection may bestow; and he or she felt succesful, below such circumstances, of endeavouring even to love Bingley’s two sisters. Her mom’s ideas she plainly noticed have been bent the identical approach, and he or she decided to not enterprise close to her, lest she may hear an excessive amount of. When they sat all the way down to supper, due to this fact, she thought-about it a most unfortunate perverseness which positioned them inside certainly one of one another; and deeply was she vexed to seek out that her mom was speaking to that one particular person (Lady Lucas) freely, overtly, and of nothing else however her expectation that Jane would quickly be married to Mr. Bingley. It was an animating topic, and Mrs. Bennet appeared incapable of fatigue whereas enumerating the benefits of the match. His being such an enthralling younger man, and so wealthy, and dwelling however three miles from them, have been the primary factors of self-gratulation; after which it was such a consolation to suppose how fond the 2 sisters have been of Jane, and to make sure that they have to need the connection as a lot as she may do. It was, furthermore, such a promising factor for her youthful daughters, as Jane’s marrying so significantly should throw them in the best way of different wealthy males; and lastly, it was so nice at her time of life to have the ability to consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, that she won’t be obliged to enter firm greater than she appreciated. It was essential to make this circumstance a matter of delight, as a result of on such events it’s the etiquette; however nobody was much less possible than Mrs. Bennet to seek out consolation in staying residence at any interval of her life. She concluded with many good needs that Lady Lucas may quickly be equally lucky, although evidently and triumphantly believing there was no likelihood of it.

    In useless did Elizabeth endeavour to verify the rapidity of her mom’s phrases, or persuade her to explain her felicity in a much less audible whisper; for, to her inexpressible vexation, she may understand that the chief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat reverse to them. Her mom solely scolded her for being nonsensical.

    “What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear.”

    “For heaven’s sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be for you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing!”

    Nothing that she may say, nonetheless, had any affect. Her mom would discuss of her views in the identical intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and blushed once more with disgrace and vexation. She couldn’t assist steadily glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, although each look satisfied her of what she dreaded; for although he was not at all times taking a look at her mom, she was satisfied that his consideration was invariably mounted by her. The expression of his face modified steadily from indignant contempt to a composed and regular gravity.

    At size, nonetheless, Mrs. Bennet had no extra to say; and Lady Lucas, who had been lengthy yawning on the repetition of delights which she noticed no chance of sharing, was left to the comforts of chilly ham and rooster. Elizabeth now started to revive. But not lengthy was the interval of tranquillity; for, when supper was over, singing was talked of, and he or she had the mortification of seeing Mary, after little or no entreaty, making ready to oblige the corporate. By many vital seems to be and silent entreaties, did she endeavour to stop such a proof of complaisance, however in useless; Mary wouldn’t perceive them; such a possibility of exhibiting was pleasant to her, and he or she started her tune. Elizabeth’s eyes have been mounted on her with most painful sensations, and he or she watched her progress by means of the a number of stanzas with an impatience which was very in poor health rewarded at their shut; for Mary, on receiving, amongst the thanks of the desk, the trace of a hope that she is likely to be prevailed on to favour them once more, after the pause of half a minute started one other. Mary’s powers have been not at all fitted for such a show; her voice was weak, and her method affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. She checked out Jane, to see how she bore it; however Jane was very composedly speaking to Bingley. She checked out his two sisters, and noticed them making indicators of derision at one another, and at Darcy, who continued, nonetheless, imperturbably grave. She checked out her father to entreat his interference, lest Mary needs to be singing all evening. He took the trace, and when Mary had completed her second tune, mentioned aloud, “That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”

    Mary, although pretending to not hear, was considerably disconcerted; and Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry for her father’s speech, was afraid her anxiousness had performed no good. Others of the celebration have been now utilized to.

    “If I,” mentioned Mr. Collins, “were so fortunate as to be able to sing, I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean, however, to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do. In the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who should omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech, which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room. Many stared—many smiled; however nobody regarded extra amused than Mr. Bennet himself, whereas his spouse severely recommended Mr. Collins for having spoken so sensibly, and noticed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas, that he was a remarkably intelligent, good type of younger man.

    To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her household made an settlement to show themselves as a lot as they might throughout the night, it could have been unattainable for them to play their components with extra spirit or finer success; and glad did she suppose it for Bingley and her sister that among the exhibition had escaped his discover, and that his emotions weren’t of a kind to be a lot distressed by the folly which he will need to have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, nonetheless, ought to have such a possibility of ridiculing her relations, was unhealthy sufficient, and he or she couldn’t decide whether or not the silent contempt of the gentleman, or the insolent smiles of the women, have been extra insupportable.

    The remainder of the night introduced her little amusement. She was teased by Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her aspect, and although he couldn’t prevail on her to bounce with him once more, put it out of her energy to bounce with others. In useless did she entreat him to face up with any individual else, and supply to introduce him to any younger girl within the room. He assured her, that as to dancing, he was completely detached to it; that his chief object was by delicate attentions to suggest himself to her and that he ought to due to this fact make some extent of remaining near her the entire night. There was no arguing upon such a undertaking. She owed her biggest aid to her buddy Miss Lucas, who usually joined them, and good-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins’s dialog to herself.

    She was a minimum of free from the offense of Mr. Darcy’s additional discover; although usually standing inside a really brief distance of her, fairly disengaged, he by no means got here close to sufficient to talk. She felt it to be the possible consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced in it.

    The Longbourn celebration have been the final of all the corporate to depart, and, by a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, needed to wait for his or her carriage 1 / 4 of an hour after everyone else was gone, which gave them time to see how heartily they have been wished away by among the household. Mrs. Hurst and her sister scarcely opened their mouths, besides to complain of fatigue, and have been evidently impatient to have the home to themselves. They repulsed each try of Mrs. Bennet at dialog, and by so doing threw a languor over the entire celebration, which was little or no relieved by the lengthy speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his sisters on the class of their leisure, and the hospitality and politeness which had marked their behaviour to their friends. Darcy mentioned nothing in any respect. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was having fun with the scene. Mr. Bingley and Jane have been standing collectively, a little bit indifferent from the remainder, and talked solely to one another. Elizabeth preserved as regular a silence as both Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was an excessive amount of fatigued to utter greater than the occasional exclamation of “Lord, how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn.

    When at size they arose to take go away, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly civil in her hope of seeing the entire household quickly at Longbourn, and addressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to guarantee him how glad he would make them by consuming a household dinner with them at any time, with out the ceremony of a proper invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure, and he readily engaged for taking the earliest alternative of ready on her, after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the following day for a short while.

    Mrs. Bennet was completely glad, and quitted the home below the pleasant persuasion that, permitting for the mandatory preparations of settlements, new carriages, and marriage ceremony garments, she ought to undoubtedly see her daughter settled at Netherfield in the middle of three or 4 months. Of having one other daughter married to Mr. Collins, she thought with equal certainty, and with appreciable, although not equal, pleasure. Elizabeth was the least expensive to her of all her youngsters; and although the person and the match have been fairly ok for her, the price of every was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.

    Chapter 19

    The subsequent day opened a brand new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his declaration in kind. Having resolved to do it with out lack of time, as his go away of absence prolonged solely to the next Saturday, and having no emotions of diffidence to make it distressing to himself even in the meanwhile, he set about it in a really orderly method, with all of the observances, which he supposed an everyday a part of the enterprise. On discovering Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, and one of many youthful women collectively, quickly after breakfast, he addressed the mom in these phrases:

    “May I hope, madam, for your interest with your fair daughter Elizabeth, when I solicit for the honour of a private audience with her in the course of this morning?”

    Before Elizabeth had time for something however a blush of shock, Mrs. Bennet answered immediately, “Oh dear!—yes—certainly. I am sure Lizzy will be very happy—I am sure she can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I want you up stairs.” And, gathering her work collectively, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth known as out:

    “Dear madam, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I am going away myself.”

    “No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire you to stay where you are.” And upon Elizabeth’s seeming actually, with vexed and embarrassed seems to be, about to flee, she added: “Lizzy, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr. Collins.”

    Elizabeth wouldn’t oppose such an injunction—and a second’s consideration making her additionally smart that it could be wisest to get it over as quickly and as quietly as doable, she sat down once more and tried to hide, by incessant employment the emotions which have been divided between misery and diversion. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as quickly as they have been gone, Mr. Collins started.

    “Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty, so far from doing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwillingness; but allow me to assure you, that I have your respected mother’s permission for this address. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying—and, moreover, for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did.”

    The concept of Mr. Collins, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his emotions, made Elizabeth so close to laughing, that she couldn’t use the brief pause he allowed in any try and cease him additional, and he continued:

    “My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly—which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of the very noble lady whom I have the honour of calling patroness. Twice has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left Hunsford—between our pools at quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh’s footstool, that she said, ‘Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, choose a gentlewoman for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. This is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that I do not reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You will find her manners beyond anything I can describe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, especially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will inevitably excite. Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that being, as I am, to inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer), I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place—which, however, as I have already said, may not be for several years. This has been my motive, my fair cousin, and I flatter myself it will not sink me in your esteem. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father, since I am well aware that it could not be complied with; and that one thousand pounds in the four per cents, which will not be yours till after your mother’s decease, is all that you may ever be entitled to. On that head, therefore, I shall be uniformly silent; and you may assure yourself that no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married.”

    It was completely essential to interrupt him now.

    “You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them.”

    “I am not now to learn,” replied Mr. Collins, with a proper wave of the hand, “that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long.”

    “Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is a rather extraordinary one after my declaration. I do assure you that I am not one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so. Nay, were your friend Lady Catherine to know me, I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the situation.”

    “Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so,” mentioned Mr. Collins very gravely—”but I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at all disapprove of you. And you may be certain when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the very highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable qualification.”

    “Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise of me will be unnecessary. You must give me leave to judge for myself, and pay me the compliment of believing what I say. I wish you very happy and very rich, and by refusing your hand, do all in my power to prevent your being otherwise. In making me the offer, you must have satisfied the delicacy of your feelings with regard to my family, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever it falls, without any self-reproach. This matter may be considered, therefore, as finally settled.” And rising as she thus spoke, she would have quitted the room, had Mr. Collins not thus addressed her:

    “When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character.”

    “Really, Mr. Collins,” cried Elizabeth with some heat, “you puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as to convince you of its being one.”

    “You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin, that your refusal of my addresses is merely words of course. My reasons for believing it are briefly these: It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy of your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the family of de Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into further consideration, that in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it will in all likelihood undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable qualifications. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.”

    “I do assure you, sir, that I have no pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart.”

    “You are uniformly charming!” cried he, with an air of awkward gallantry; “and I am persuaded that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.”

    To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make no reply, and instantly and in silence withdrew; decided, if he endured in contemplating her repeated refusals as flattering encouragement, to use to her father, whose unfavorable is likely to be uttered in such a fashion as to be decisive, and whose behaviour a minimum of couldn’t be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of a sublime feminine.

    Chapter 20

    Mr. Collins was not left lengthy to the silent contemplation of his profitable love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about within the vestibule to look at for the tip of the convention, no sooner noticed Elizabeth open the door and with fast step cross her in the direction of the staircase, than she entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated each him and herself in heat phrases on the glad prospect of their nearer connection. Mr. Collins acquired and returned these felicitations with equal pleasure, after which proceeded to narrate the particulars of their interview, with the results of which he trusted he had each purpose to be glad, for the reason that refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given him would naturally move from her bashful modesty and the real delicacy of her character.

    This data, nonetheless, startled Mrs. Bennet; she would have been glad to be equally glad that her daughter had meant to encourage him by protesting towards his proposals, however she dared not consider it, and couldn’t assist saying so.

    “But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins,” she added, “that Lizzy shall be brought to reason. I will speak to her about it directly. She is a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her own interest but I will make her know it.”

    “Pardon me for interrupting you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I know not whether she would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit, perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me, because if liable to such defects of temper, she could not contribute much to my felicity.”

    “Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” mentioned Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. “Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as these. In everything else she is as good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure.”

    She wouldn’t give him time to answer, however hurrying immediately to her husband, known as out as she entered the library, “Oh! Mr. Bennet, you are wanted immediately; we are all in an uproar. You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows she will not have him, and if you do not make haste he will change his mind and not have her.”

    Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his ebook as she entered, and stuck them on her face with a peaceful unconcern which was not within the least altered by her communication.

    “I have not the pleasure of understanding you,” mentioned he, when she had completed her speech. “Of what are you talking?”

    “Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not have Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not have Lizzy.”

    “And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopeless business.”

    “Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him.”

    “Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion.”

    Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the library.

    “Come here, child,” cried her father as she appeared. “I have sent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr. Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?” Elizabeth replied that it was. “Very well—and this offer of marriage you have refused?”

    “I have, sir.”

    “Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?”

    “Yes, or I will never see her again.”

    “An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”

    Elizabeth couldn’t however smile at such a conclusion of such a starting, however Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disillusioned.

    “What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in talking this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him.”

    “My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be.”

    Not but, nonetheless, regardless of her disappointment in her husband, did Mrs. Bennet hand over the purpose. She talked to Elizabeth time and again; coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavoured to safe Jane in her curiosity; however Jane, with all doable mildness, declined interfering; and Elizabeth, typically with actual earnestness, and typically with playful gaiety, replied to her assaults. Though her method various, nonetheless, her dedication by no means did.

    Mr. Collins, in the meantime, was meditating in solitude on what had handed. He thought too effectively of himself to understand on what motives his cousin may refuse him; and although his delight was damage, he suffered in no different approach. His regard for her was fairly imaginary; and the potential for her deserving her mom’s reproach prevented his feeling any remorse.

    While the household have been on this confusion, Charlotte Lucas got here to spend the day with them. She was met within the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”

    Charlotte hardly had time to reply, earlier than they have been joined by Kitty, who got here to inform the identical information; and no sooner had they entered the breakfast-room, the place Mrs. Bennet was alone, than she likewise started on the topic, calling on Miss Lucas for her compassion, and entreating her to influence her buddy Lizzy to adjust to the needs of all her household. “Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,” she added in a melancholy tone, “for nobody is on my side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used, nobody feels for my poor nerves.”

    Charlotte’s reply was spared by the doorway of Jane and Elizabeth.

    “Aye, there she comes,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “looking as unconcerned as may be, and caring no more for us than if we were at York, provided she can have her own way. But I tell you, Miss Lizzy—if you take it into your head to go on refusing every offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husband at all—and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you—and so I warn you. I have done with you from this very day. I told you in the library, you know, that I should never speak to you again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have no pleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have much pleasure, indeed, in talking to anybody. People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no great inclination for talking. Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”

    Her daughters listened in silence to this effusion, smart that any try and purpose along with her or soothe her would solely enhance the irritation. She talked on, due to this fact, with out interruption from any of them, until they have been joined by Mr. Collins, who entered the room with an air extra stately than ordinary, and on perceiving whom, she mentioned to the women, “Now, I do insist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and let me and Mr. Collins have a little conversation together.”

    Elizabeth handed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty adopted, however Lydia stood her floor, decided to listen to all she may; and Charlotte, detained first by the civility of Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after herself and all her household have been very minute, after which by a little bit curiosity, glad herself with strolling to the window and pretending to not hear. In a doleful voice Mrs. Bennet started the projected dialog: “Oh! Mr. Collins!”

    “My dear madam,” replied he, “let us be for ever silent on this point. Far be it from me,” he presently continued, in a voice that marked his displeasure, “to resent the behaviour of your daughter. Resignation to inevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment; and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positive happiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for I have often observed that resignation is never so perfect as when the blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in our estimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawing my pretensions to your daughter’s favour, without having paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the compliment of requesting you to interpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may, I fear, be objectionable in having accepted my dismission from your daughter’s lips instead of your own. But we are all liable to error. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My object has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, with due consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if my manner has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologise.”

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  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE – Chapter 1

    Chapter 1

    It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

    However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

    “My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”

    Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.

    “But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.”

    Mr. Bennet made no answer.

    “Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently.

    “You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”

    This was invitation enough.

    “Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.”

    “What is his name?”

    “Bingley.”

    “Is he married or single?”

    “Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”

    “How so? How can it affect them?”

    “My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”

    “Is that his design in settling here?”

    “Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.”

    “I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.”

    “My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”

    “In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.”

    “But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.”

    “It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”

    “But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not.”

    “You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”

    “I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.”

    “They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters.”

    “Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.”

    “You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.”

    “Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”

    “But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood.”

    “It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them.”

    “Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all.”

    Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.

    Chapter 2

    Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he should not go; and till the evening after the visit was paid she had no knowledge of it. It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with:

    “I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”

    “We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother resentfully, “since we are not to visit.”

    “But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him.”

    “I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her.”

    “No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; “and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.”

    Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters.

    “Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”

    “Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times them ill.”

    “I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully. “When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”

    “To-morrow fortnight.”

    “Aye, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.”

    “Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her.”

    “Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teasing?”

    “I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.”

    The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, nonsense!”

    “What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts.”

    Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how.

    “While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. Bingley.”

    “I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.

    “I am sorry to hear that; but why did not you tell me that before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”

    The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.

    “How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! and it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now.”

    “Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.

    “What an excellent father you have, girls!” said she, when the door was shut. “I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me, either, for that matter. At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but for your sakes, we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.”

    “Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I’m the tallest.”

    The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.

    Chapter 3

    Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him in various ways—with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.

    “If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

    In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much; but he saw only the father. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that he wore a blue coat, and rode a black horse.

    An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only six with him from London—his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether—Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.

    Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.

    Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room; he was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield. Such amiable qualities must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters.

    Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.

    “Come, Darcy,” said he, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”

    “I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

    “I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Mr. Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

    “You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.

    “Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

    “Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said: “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

    Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.

    The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s pleasure. Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough never to be without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned, therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife’s views on the stranger would be disappointed; but he soon found out that he had a different story to hear.

    “Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could be like it. Everybody said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice! Only think of that, my dear; he actually danced with her twice! and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time. First of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her! But, however, he did not admire her at all; indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. So he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger—”

    “If he had had any compassion for me,” cried her husband impatiently, “he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of his partners. Oh that he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!”

    “Oh! my dear, I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown—”

    Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to seek another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.

    “But I can assure you,” she added, “that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set-downs. I quite detest the man.”

    Chapter 4

    When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister just how very much she admired him.

    “He is just what a young man ought to be,” said she, “sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!—so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!”

    “He is also handsome,” replied Elizabeth, “which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.”

    “I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.”

    “Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”

    “Dear Lizzy!”

    “Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in anybody. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in your life.”

    “I would not wish to be hasty in censuring anyone; but I always speak what I think.”

    “I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be so honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough—one meets with it everywhere. But to be candid without ostentation or design—to take the good of everybody’s character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad—belongs to you alone. And so you like this man’s sisters, too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.”

    “Certainly not—at first. But they are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother, and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her.”

    Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced; their behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgement too unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine ladies; not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of making themselves agreeable when they chose it, but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank, and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother’s fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.

    Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly a hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase.

    His sisters were anxious for his having an estate of his own; but, though he was now only established as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no means unwilling to preside at his table—nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it, and into it for half-an-hour—was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.

    Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of great opposition of character. Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, and ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy’s regard, Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well-bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving offense.

    The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with more pleasant people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.

    Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so—but still they admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they would not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorized by such commendation to think of her as he chose.

    Chapter 5

    Within a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune, and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty. The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his business, and to his residence in a small market town; and, in quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For, though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to everybody. By nature inoffensive, friendly, and obliging, his presentation at St. James’s had made him courteous.

    Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. They had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth’s intimate friend.

    That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.

    “You began the evening well, Charlotte,” said Mrs. Bennet with civil self-command to Miss Lucas. “You were Mr. Bingley’s first choice.”

    “Yes; but he seemed to like his second better.”

    “Oh! you mean Jane, I suppose, because he danced with her twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired her—indeed I rather believe he did—I heard something about it—but I hardly know what—something about Mr. Robinson.”

    “Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson’s asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question: ‘Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet, beyond a doubt; there cannot be two opinions on that point.’”

    “Upon my word! Well, that is very decided indeed—that does seem as if—but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.”

    “My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours, Eliza,” said Charlotte. “Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he?—poor Eliza!—to be only just tolerable.”

    “I beg you would not put it into Lizzy’s head to be vexed by his ill-treatment, for he is such a disagreeable man, that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half-an-hour without once opening his lips.”

    “Are you quite sure, ma’am?—is not there a little mistake?” said Jane. “I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.”

    “Aye—because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; but she said he seemed quite angry at being spoke to.”

    “Miss Bingley told me,” said Jane, “that he never speaks much, unless among his intimate acquaintances. With them he is remarkably agreeable.”

    “I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; everybody says that he is eat up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise.”

    “I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,” said Miss Lucas, “but I wish he had danced with Eliza.”

    “Another time, Lizzy,” said her mother, “I would not dance with him, if I were you.”

    “I believe, ma’am, I may safely promise you never to dance with him.”

    “His pride,” said Miss Lucas, “does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, everything in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud.”

    “That is very true,” replied Elizabeth, “and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”

    “Pride,” observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, “is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”

    “If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,” cried a young Lucas, who came with his sisters, “I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine a day.”

    “Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,” said Mrs. Bennet; “and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly.”

    The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

    Chapter 6

    The ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was soon returned in due form. Miss Bennet’s pleasing manners grew on the goodwill of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was found to be intolerable, and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane, this attention was received with the greatest pleasure, but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of everybody, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother’s admiration. It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.

    “It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.”

    “But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too.”

    “Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”

    “But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out.”

    “Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But, though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half-hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses.”

    “Your plan is a good one,” replied Elizabeth, “where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined with him in company four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character.”

    “Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have also been spent together—and four evenings may do a great deal.”

    “Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”

    “Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.”

    “You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”

    Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley’s attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

    He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were assembled.

    “What does Mr. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?”

    “That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.”

    “But if he does it any more I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.”

    On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said:

    “Did you not think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”

    “With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady energetic.”

    “You are severe on us.”

    “It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas. “I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.”

    “You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however, she added, “Very well, if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, “There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: ‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge’; and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”

    Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.

    Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

    Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:

    “What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society.”

    “Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.”

    Sir William only smiled. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.”

    “You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”

    “Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James’s?”

    “Never, sir.”

    “Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”

    “It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”

    “You have a house in town, I conclude?”

    Mr. Darcy bowed.

    “I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself—for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”

    He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her:

    “My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.” And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William:

    “Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

    Mr. Darcy, with grave propriety, requested to be allowed the honour of her hand, but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

    “You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.”

    “Mr. Darcy is all politeness,” said Elizabeth, smiling.

    “He is, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance—for who would object to such a partner?”

    Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley:

    “I can guess the subject of your reverie.”

    “I should imagine not.”

    “You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

    “Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.”

    Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity:

    “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

    “Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”

    “That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”

    “Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.”

    He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

    Chapter 7

    Mr. Bennet’s property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother’s fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.

    She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.

    The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt and to a milliner’s shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters’, and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the headquarters.

    Their visits to Mrs. Phillips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers’ names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Phillips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a store of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley’s large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign.

    After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed:

    “From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.”

    Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.

    “I am astonished, my dear,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of anybody’s children, it should not be of my own, however.”

    “If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”

    “Yes—but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.”

    “This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish.”

    “My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well—and, indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William’s in his regimentals.”

    “Mamma,” cried Lydia, “my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson’s as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke’s library.”

    Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet’s eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,

    “Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”

    “It is from Miss Bingley,” said Jane, and then read it aloud.

    “MY DEAR FRIEND,—

    “If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day’s tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers.—Yours ever,

    “CAROLINE BINGLEY”

    “With the officers!” cried Lydia. “I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that.”

    “Dining out,” said Mrs. Bennet, “that is very unlucky.”

    “Can I have the carriage?” said Jane.

    “No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.”

    “That would be a good scheme,” said Elizabeth, “if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home.”

    “Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley’s chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”

    “I had much rather go in the coach.”

    “But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?”

    “They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”

    “But if you have got them to-day,” said Elizabeth, “my mother’s purpose will be answered.”

    She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.

    “This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!” said Mrs. Bennet more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:

    “MY DEAREST LIZZY,—

    “I find myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones—therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me—and, excepting a sore throat and headache, there is not much the matter with me.—Yours, etc.”

    “Well, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, “if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness—if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”

    “Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage.”

    Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horsewoman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.

    “How can you be so silly,” cried her mother, “as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.”

    “I shall be very fit to see Jane—which is all I want.”

    “Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,” said her father, “to send for the horses?”

    “No, indeed, I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.”

    “I admire the activity of your benevolence,” observed Mary, “but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”

    “We will go as far as Meryton with you,” said Catherine and Lydia. Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.

    “If we make haste,” said Lydia, as they walked along, “perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes.”

    In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers’ wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.

    She was shown into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother’s manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion’s justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.

    Her inquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish, and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little besides expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.

    When breakfast was over they were joined by the sisters; and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude they showed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment; nor were the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had, in fact, nothing to do elsewhere.

    When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go, and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her, that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise to an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay and bring back a supply of clothes.

    Chapter 8

    At five o’clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half-past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil inquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley’s, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves; and then thought no more of the matter: and their indifference towards Jane when not immediately before them restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her former dislike.

    Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards; who, when he found her to prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.

    When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added:

    “She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.”

    “She did, indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair, so untidy, so blowsy!”

    “Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office.”

    “Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,” said Bingley; “but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice.”

    “You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.”

    “Certainly not.”

    “To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.”

    “It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,” said Bingley.

    “I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,” observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, “that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.”

    “Not at all,” he replied; “they were brightened by the exercise.” A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again:

    “I have an excessive regard for Miss Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.”

    “I think I have heard you say that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.”

    “Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.”

    “That is capital,” added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.

    “If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,” cried Bingley, “it would not make them one jot less agreeable.”

    “But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,” replied Darcy.

    To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend’s vulgar relations.

    With a renewal of tenderness, however, they returned to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all, till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her sleep, and when it seemed to her rather right than pleasant that she should go downstairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

    “Do you prefer reading to cards?” said he; “that is rather singular.”

    “Miss Eliza Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, “despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.”

    “I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,” cried Elizabeth; “I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.”

    “In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,” said Bingley; “and I hope it will be soon increased by seeing her quite well.”

    Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards the table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others—all that his library afforded.

    “And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever looked into.”

    Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

    “I am astonished,” said Miss Bingley, “that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!”

    “It ought to be good,” he replied, “it has been the work of many generations.”

    “And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.”

    “I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.”

    “Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.”

    “I wish it may.”

    “But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.”

    “With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.”

    “I am talking of possibilities, Charles.”

    “Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.”

    Elizabeth was so much caught with what passed, as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister, to observe the game.

    “Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?” said Miss Bingley; “will she be as tall as I am?”

    “I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s height, or rather taller.”

    “How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

    “It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

    “All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

    “Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

    “Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

    “Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

    “Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

    “Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

    “Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

    “All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

    “I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.”

    “Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all this?”

    “I never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united.”

    Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.

    “Elizabeth Bennet,” said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, “is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.”

    “Undoubtedly,” replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, “there is a meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.”

    Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.

    Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of; but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother’s proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning, if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.

    Chapter 9

    Elizabeth passed the chief of the night in her sister’s room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the inquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgement of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.

    Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She would not listen, therefore, to her daughter’s proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss Bingley’s appearance and invitation, the mother and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.

    “Indeed I have, sir,” was her answer. “She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness.”

    “Removed!” cried Bingley. “It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.”

    “You may depend upon it, Madam,” said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, “that Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention while she remains with us.”

    Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.

    “I am sure,” she added, “if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I have ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over the gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry, I hope, though you have but a short lease.”

    “Whatever I do is done in a hurry,” replied he; “and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.”

    “That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,” said Elizabeth.

    “You begin to comprehend me, do you?” cried he, turning towards her.

    “Oh! yes—I understand you perfectly.”

    “I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful.”

    “That is as it happens. It does not follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.”

    “Lizzy,” cried her mother, “remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.”

    “I did not know before,” continued Bingley immediately, “that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.”

    “Yes, but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.”

    “The country,” said Darcy, “can in general supply but a few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.”

    “But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.”

    “Yes, indeed,” cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. “I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.”

    Everybody was surprised, and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.

    “I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country, for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is it not, Mr. Bingley?”

    “When I am in the country,” he replied, “I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.”

    “Aye—that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman,” looking at Darcy, “seemed to think the country was nothing at all.”

    “Indeed, Mamma, you are mistaken,” said Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. “You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there was not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in the town, which you must acknowledge to be true.”

    “Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four-and-twenty families.”

    Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eyes towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother’s thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

    “Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley, is not he? So much the man of fashion! So genteel and easy! He has always something to say to everybody. That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important, and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.”

    “Did Charlotte dine with you?”

    “No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince-pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up very differently. But everybody is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are a very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain—but then she is our particular friend.”

    “She seems a very pleasant young woman.”

    “Oh! dear, yes; but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane’s beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane—one does not often see anybody better looking. It is what everybody says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a man at my brother Gardiner’s in town so much in love with her that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But, however, he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.”

    “And so ended his affection,” said Elizabeth impatiently. “There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!”

    “I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,” said Darcy.

    “Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

    Darcy only smiled; and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane, with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part indeed without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

    Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attention of the officers, to whom her uncle’s good dinners, and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother’s ear:

    “I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement; and when your sister is recovered, you shall, if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing when she is ill.”

    Lydia declared herself satisfied. “Oh! yes—it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball,” she added, “I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.”

    Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations’ behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley’s witticisms on fine eyes.

    Chapter 10

    The day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing-room. The loo-table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.

    Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady, either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in union with her opinion of each.

    “How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!”

    He made no answer.

    “You write uncommonly fast.”

    “You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.”

    “How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year! Letters of business, too! How odious I should think them!”

    “It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.”

    “Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.”

    “I have already told her so once, by your desire.”

    “I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”

    “Thank you—but I always mend my own.”

    “How can you contrive to write so even?”

    He was silent.

    “Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp; and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley’s.”

    “Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice.”

    “Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?”

    “They are generally long; but whether always charming it is not for me to determine.”

    “It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter with ease, cannot write ill.”

    “That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,” cried her brother, “because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?”

    “My style of writing is very different from yours.”

    “Oh!” cried Miss Bingley, “Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.”

    “My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them—by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.”

    “Your humility, Mr. Bingley,” said Elizabeth, “must disarm reproof.”

    “Nothing is more deceitful,” said Darcy, “than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.”

    “And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?”

    “The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved upon quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself—and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”

    “Nay,” cried Bingley, “this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believe what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to show off before the ladies.”

    “I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better stay till next week,’ you would probably do it, you would probably not go—and at another word, might stay a month.”

    “You have only proved by this,” cried Elizabeth, “that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself.”

    “I am exceedingly gratified,” said Bingley, “by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could.”

    “Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”

    “Upon my word, I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for himself.”

    “You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety.”

    “To yield readily—easily—to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you.”

    “To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either.”

    “You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”

    “Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?”

    “By all means,” cried Bingley; “let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you, that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening, when he has nothing to do.”

    Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended, and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.

    “I see your design, Bingley,” said his friend. “You dislike an argument, and want to silence this.”

    “Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.”

    “What you ask,” said Elizabeth, “is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter.”

    Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.

    When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for an indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with some alacrity to the pianoforte; and, after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.

    Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange. She could only imagine, however, at last that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.

    After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her:

    “Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?”

    She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.

    “Oh!” said she, “I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all—and now despise me if you dare.”

    “Indeed I do not dare.”

    Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.

    Miss Bingley saw, or suspected enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.

    She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.

    “I hope,” said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, “you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after officers. And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.”

    “Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”

    “Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth’s picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?”

    “It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.”

    At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself.

    “I did not know that you intended to walk,” said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.

    “You used us abominably ill,” answered Mrs. Hurst, “running away without telling us that you were coming out.”

    Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three. Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness, and immediately said:

    “This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”

    But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered:

    “No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.”

    She then ran gaily off, rejoicing as she rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.

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