by Jane Austen
Elizabeth was pleased to find his memory so exact, and he afterwards took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether all her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question, nor in the preceding remark, but there was a look and a manner which gave them meaning.
It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr Darcy himself, but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an accent so removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day. When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace—when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings. And every time Elizabeth caught his eye, his smile was bright, unguarded and unrestrained. Each new occasion caused Elizabeth’s breath to quicken and a pleasant warmth saturated her body.
Their visitors stayed with them above half-an-hour, and when they arose to depart, Mr Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing their wish of seeing Mr and Mrs Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily obeyed. Mrs Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing how she, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.
Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many enquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased, and on this account, as well as some others, found herself, when their visitors left them, capable of considering the last half-hour with some satisfaction, though while it was passing, the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of enquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their favourable opinion of Bingley, and then hurried away to dress. When she was finally alone, Elizabeth allowed herself pause to reflect on the triumph of the occasion. Mr Bingley had been agreeable, though more reserved than she remembered, but Darcy had appeared truly delighted to be once again in her company. She was still in a state of wonder about the change to his disposition. He had been most charming. Elizabeth could not deny that her desire for him was stronger than before, for his civility and agreeable temperament made him all the more attractive, his constant smiles lightened his face so that he was handsomer than ever, and she wanted him, ached to be in his arms again, though she would never admit such a thing to her aunt.
But she had no reason to fear Mr and Mrs Gardiner’s curiosity. It was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was much better acquainted with Mr Darcy than they had before any idea of, it was evident that he was very much in love with her. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify enquiry.
Of Mr Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well, and, as far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could not be untouched by his politeness, and had they drawn his character from their own feelings and his servant’s report, without any reference to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known would not have recognised it for Mr Darcy. There was now an interest, however, in believing the housekeeper, and they soon became sensible that the authority of a servant who had known him since he was four years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability, was not to be hastily rejected. Neither had anything occurred in the intelligence of their Lambton friends that could materially lessen its weight. They had nothing to accuse him of but pride. Pride he probably had, and if not, it would certainly be imputed by the inhabitants of a small market-town where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged, however, that he was a liberal man, and did much good among the poor.
With respect to Wickham, the travellers soon found that he was not held there in much estimation, for though the chief of his concerns with the son of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was yet a well-known fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire, he had left many debts behind him, which Mr Darcy afterwards discharged.
As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than the last. The evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not long enough to determine her feelings towards one in that mansion, and she lay awake two whole hours endeavouring to make them out. She certainly did not hate him. No, hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him, that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feeling, and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of goodwill which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude, gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much pride exciting not only astonishment but gratitude—for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed, and as such its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his welfare, and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on her the renewal of his addresses. It was the first time Elizabeth had not been conflicted about desiring him. On previous occasions, though she had wanted him, had longed for his kiss and to feel his hands on her body, those feelings had been at odds with the man she had thought she knew him to be and the many offences she had believed him to commit. But now she knew better. Now she was free to crave him. It did not feel like a betrayal to her sister or to herself. In no way did it feel wrong.
It had been settled in the evening between the aunt and the niece, that such a striking civility as Miss Darcy’s in coming to see them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she had reached it only to a late breakfast, ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by some exertion of politeness on their side, and, consequently, that it would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning. They were, therefore, to go. Elizabeth was pleased, though when she asked hers
elf the reason, she had very little to say in reply.
Mr Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before noon.
Chapter Forty-Five
Convinced as Elizabeth now was that Miss Bingley’s dislike of her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how much civility on that lady’s side the acquaintance would now be renewed. But Elizabeth’s main concern was how she would react should she see Mr Darcy at Pemberley. She was nervous of being obvious, well aware that all persons present would be watching her closely to determine her feelings towards the gentleman. Would her face betray her desire for him? And how would he react?
On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer. Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.
In this house they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there with Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in London. Georgiana’s reception of them was very civil, but attended with all the embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved. Mrs Gardiner and her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.
By Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a curtsey, and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments. It was first broken by Mrs Annesley, a genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the others. Between her and Mrs Gardiner, with occasional help from Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it, and sometimes did venture a short sentence when there was least danger of its being heard.
Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without calling her attention. This observation would not have prevented her from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an inconvenient distance, but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity of saying much. Her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room. She wished, she feared that the master of the house might be amongst them, and whether she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine. After sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without hearing Miss Bingley’s voice, Elizabeth was roused by receiving from her a cold enquiry after the health of her family. She answered with equal indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.
The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits in season, but this did not take place till after many a significant look and smile from Mrs Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole party—for though they could not all talk, they could all eat, and the beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table.
While thus engaged, Elizabeth had a fair opportunity of deciding whether she most feared or wished for the appearance of Mr Darcy, by the feelings which prevailed on his entering the room, and then, though but a moment before she had believed her wishes to predominate, she began to regret that he came.
He had been some time with Mr Gardiner, who, with two or three other gentlemen from the house, was engaged by the river, and had left him only on learning that the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. His eyes sought her out the moment he entered the room and the joyful smile he proffered upon seeing her made her heart skip a beat. No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed. It was a resolution the more necessary to be made, but perhaps not the more easily kept, because she saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them, and that there was scarcely an eye which did not watch his behaviour when he first came into the room. In no countenance was attentive curiosity so strongly marked as in Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the smiles which overspread her face whenever she spoke to one of its objects, for jealousy had not yet made her desperate, and her attentions to Mr Darcy were by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother’s entrance, exerted herself much more to talk, and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss Bingley saw all this likewise, and, in the imprudence of anger, took the first opportunity of saying, 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 mention Wickham’s name, but Elizabeth instantly comprehended that he was uppermost in her thoughts, and the various recollections connected with him gave her a moment’s distress, but exerting herself vigorously to repel the ill-natured attack, she presently answered the question in a tolerably detached tone. While she spoke, an involuntary glance showed her Darcy, with a heightened complexion, earnestly looking at her, and his sister overcome with confusion, and unable to lift up her eyes. Had Miss Bingley known what pain she was then giving her beloved friend, she undoubtedly would have refrained from the hint, but she had merely intended to discompose Elizabeth by bringing forward the idea of a man to whom she believed her partial, to make her betray a sensibility which might injure her in Darcy’s opinion, and, perhaps, to remind the latter of all the follies and absurdities by which some part of her family were connected with that corps. Not a syllable had ever reached her of Miss Darcy’s meditated elopement. To no creature had it been revealed, where secrecy was possible, except to Elizabeth, and from all Bingley’s connections her brother was particularly anxious to conceal it, from the very wish which Elizabeth had long ago attributed to him, of their becoming hereafter her own. He had certainly formed such a plan, and without meaning that it should effect his endeavour to separate him from Miss Bennet, it is probable that it might add something to his lively concern for the welfare of his friend.
Elizabeth’s collected behaviour, however, soon quieted his emotion, and as Miss Bingley, vexed and disappointed, dared not approach nearer to Wickham, Georgiana also recovered in time, though not enough to be able to speak any more. Her brother, whose eye she feared to meet, scarcely recollected her interest in the affair, and the very circumstance which had been designed to turn his thoughts from Elizabeth seemed to have fixed them on her more and more cheerfully. On every occasion that Elizabeth looked at Darcy she found his eyes on her, and she was both pleased and flattered by the admiration in their depths. The heat and longing was soon to follow, a sight she had convinced herself she would never see again. She wished then more than ever that they did not have so many curious eyes watching their every move. She wanted to be alone with him. The very idea of what they could do if they were alone together sent heat rushing to her cheeks, and Darcy seemed to catch it, for he grinned sensually as though he could read her thoughts.
Their visit did not continue long after the question and answer above mentioned, and while Mr Darcy was attending them to their carriage Miss Bingley was venting her feelings in criticisms on Elizabeth’s person, behaviour, and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her brother’s recommendation was enough to ensure her favour, his judgement could not err. And he had spoken in such terms of Elizabeth as to leave Georgiana without the power of finding her otherwise than lovely and amiable.
Mrs Gardiner mumbled something about taking a look at the roses in the garden before boarding the carriage and discreetly walked
ahead, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy alone in the courtyard. They were silent for a moment, until Mr Darcy turned and met Elizabeth’s gaze.
“Thank you for the compliment of calling to see my sister this morning. It is kindly appreciated.”
Elizabeth waved off his gratitude. “It was my pleasure—it was delightful to see her again.” And you too, she secretly added.
“I feel I must apologise,” said he.
Elizabeth lifted her brow. If either of them had need to make an apology it should be her for the appalling way she had treated him in Kent.
Darcy nodded. “On Miss Bingley’s behalf. Her welcome was less than friendly. I do believe she treated you ill.”
“Oh, it was nothing less than I expected,” Elizabeth replied, instantly regretting her choice of words. She did not want him to believe her so arrogant as though she knew she were a rival of Miss Bingley for his affections. But Darcy did not appear to notice her faux pas.
“Miss Bingley has a very self-important view of herself. You should not take her manner personally. She speaks with a similar sharpness of tongue to most women in our company, except,” he corrected, “your sister. She appeared to take an instant liking to her.”
