The Annotated Pride and Prejudice

by Austen, Jane

  They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house,9 all her apprehensions of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her being where she was.

  The housekeeper10 came; a respectable-looking, elderly woman, much less fine,11 and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect.12 The hill, crowned with wood, from which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition13 of the ground was good; and she looked on the whole scene, the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it, with delight.14 As they passed into other rooms, these objects were taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be seen.15 The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture16 suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of splendor, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings.17

  “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.”18

  This was a lucky recollection —it saved her from something like regret.19

  She longed to enquire of the housekeeper, whether her master were really absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied, that he was, adding, “but we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!

  Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw the likeness of Mr. Wickham suspended, amongst several other miniatures, over the mantlepiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master's steward,20 who had been brought up by him at his own expence.—”He is now gone into the army,” she added, “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”

  Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not return it.

  “And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another 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,”21 said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not.”

  Mrs. Reynolds's respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master.

  “Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”

  Elizabeth coloured,22 and said —”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.23 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 among them.24

  Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight years old.

  “And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mr. 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 were easy25 and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks; Mrs. Reynolds, either from pride or attachment,26 had evidently great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.27

  “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 could not help saying, “It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”

  “I say no more than the truth, and what every body will say that knows him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, “I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”28

  This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man, had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened; she longed to hear more, 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 was 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.”29

  Elizabeth almost stared at her.—“Can this be Mr. Darcy!” thought she.

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

  “Yes, Ma'am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him—just as affable30 to the poor.”31

  Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subject of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture, in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family prejudice,32 to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase.33

  “He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw any thing of it. To my fancy,34 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.”35

  “Perhaps we might be deceived.”

  “That is not very likely; our authority36 was too good.”

  On reaching the spacious lobby37 above, they were shewn into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below;38 and were informed that it was but just done, to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room, when last at Pemberley.

  “He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards one of the windows.

  Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy's delight, when she should 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 bed-rooms, were all that remained to be shewn. In the former were many good paintings; but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art;39 and from such as had been already visible below,40 she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss Darcy's,41 in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible.42

  In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested her —and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face, as she remembered to have sometimes seen, when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them, that it had been taken in his father's life time.

  There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards the original, than she had ever felt in the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people's happiness were in his guardianship! —How much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! —How much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard43 with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.44

  When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned down stairs, and taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener,45 who met them at the hall door.

  As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.46

  They were within twenty yards of each other, and so abrupt was his appearance, that it was impossible to avoid his sight. Their eyes instantly met, and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush. He absolutely started, and for a moment seemed immoveable from surprise; but shortly recovering himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility.

  She had instinctively turned away; but, stopping on his approach, received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be overcome. Had his first appearance, or his resemblance to the picture they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener's expression of surprise, on beholding his master, must immediately have told it. They stood a little aloof while he was talking to their niece, who, astonished and confused, scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face, and knew not what answer she returned to his civil enquiries after her family. Amazed at the alteration in his manner since they last parted,47 every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the impropriety of her being found there, recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued together, were some of the most uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much more at ease; when he spoke, his accent48 had none of its usual sedateness;49 and he repeated his enquiries as to the time of her having left Long-bourn, and of her stay in Derbyshire, so often, and in so hurried a way, as plainly spoke50 the distraction of his thoughts.51

  At length, every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a few moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took leave.

  The others then joined her, and expressed their admiration of his figure;52 but Elizabeth heard not a word, and, wholly engrossed by her own feelings, followed them in silence. She was overpowered by shame and vexation. Her coming there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! How strange must it appear to him! In what a disgraceful light might it not strike so vain a man!53 It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh! why did she come? or, why did he thus come a day before he was expected? Had they been only ten minutes sooner, they should have been beyond the reach of his discrimination,54 for it was plain that he was that moment arrived, that moment alighted from his horse55 or his carriage. She blushed again and again over the perverseness of the meeting. And his behaviour, so strikingly altered,—what could it mean? That he should even speak to her was amazing!—but to speak with such civility, to enquire after her family! Never in her life had she seen his manners so little dignified, never had he spoken with such gentleness as on this unexpected meeting. What a contrast did it offer to his last address in Rosings Park, when he put his letter into her hand! She knew not what to think, nor how to account for it.

  They had now entered a beautiful walk by the side of the water, and every step was bringing forward a nobler fall of ground,56 or a finer reach of the woods to which they were approaching; but it was some time before Elizabeth was sensible57 of any of it; and, though she answered mechanically to the repeated appeals of her uncle and aunt, and seemed to direct her eyes to such objects as they pointed out, she distinguished no part of the scene. Her thoughts were all fixed on that one spot of Pemberley House, whichever it might be, where Mr. Darcy then was. She longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind; in what manner he thought of her, and whether, in defiance of every thing, she was still dear to him. Perhaps he had been civil, only because he felt himself at ease; yet there had been that in his voice, which was not like ease. Whether he had felt more of pain or of pleasure in seeing her, she could not tell, but he certainly had not seen her with composure.

  At length, however, the remarks of her companions on her absence of mind roused her, and she felt the necessity of appearing more like herself58

  They entered the woods, and bidding adieu to the river for a while, ascended some of the higher grounds; whence, in spots where the opening of the trees gave the eye power to wander, were many charming views of the valley, the opposite hills, with the long range of woods overspreading many,59 and occasionally part of the stream. Mr. Gardiner expressed a wish of going round the whole Park, but feared it might be beyond a walk. With a triumphant smile, they were told,60 that it was ten miles round. It settled the matter; and they pursued the accustomed circuit;61 which brought them again, after some time, in a descent among hanging woods,62 to the edge of the water, in one of its narrowest parts. They crossed it by a simple bridge, in character with the general air of the scene; it was a spot less adorned than any they had yet visited; and the valley, here contracted into a glen, allowed room only for the stream, and a narrow walk amidst the rough coppice-wood63 which bordered it. Elizabeth longed to explore its windings;64 but when they had crossed the bridge, and perceived their distance from the house, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not a great walker, could go no farther, and thought only of returning to the carriage as quickly as possible. Her niece was, therefore, obliged to submit, and they took their way towards the house on the opposite side of the river, in the nearest direction; but their progress was slow, for Mr. Gardiner, though seldom able to indulge the taste, was very fond of fishing, and was so much engaged in watching the occasional appearance of some trout in the water, and talking to the man about them, that he advanced but little.65 Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth's astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no great distance. The walk being here less sheltered than on the other side, allowed them to see him before they met. Elizabeth, however astonished, was at least more prepared for an interview than before, and resolved to appear and to speak with calmness, if he really intended to meet them. For a fe
w moments, indeed, she felt that he would probably strike into some other path. This idea lasted while a turning in the walk concealed him from their view; the turning past, he was immediately before them. With a glance she saw, that he had lost none of his recent civility; and, to imitate his politeness, she began, as they met, to admire the beauty of the place; but she had not got beyond the words “delightful,” and “charming,” when some unlucky recollections obtruded, and she fancied that praise of Pemberley from her, might be mischievously construed.66 Her colour changed, and she said no more.

  Mrs. Gardiner was standing a little behind; and on her pausing, he asked her, if she would do him the honour of introducing him to her friends. This was a stroke of civility for which she was quite unprepared; and she could hardly suppress a smile, at his being now seeking the acquaintance of some of those very people, against whom his pride had revolted, in his offer to herself. “What will be his surprise,” thought she, “when he knows who they are! He takes them now for people of fashion.”67

  The introduction, however, was immediately made; and as she named their relationship to herself, she stole a sly68 look at him, to see how he bore it; and was not without the expectation of his decamping69 as fast as he could from such disgraceful companions. That he was surprised by the connexion70 was evident; he sustained it however with fortitude,71 and so far from going away, turned back with them, and entered into conversation with Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth could not but be pleased, could not but triumph. It was consoling, that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.72