The color which had been driven from her face, returned for half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight added luster to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken. But she would not be secure.
“Let me first see how he behaves,” thought she, “It will then be early enough for expectation.”
She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without daring to lift up her eyes till anxious curiosity carried them to the face of her sister as the servant approached the door. Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate than Elizabeth had expected. On the gentlemen’s appearing, her color increased. Yet she received them with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behavior equally free from any symptom of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.
Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow. She ventured only one glance at Darcy. He looked serious, as usual, more as he had been used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at Pemberley. But, perhaps he could not in her mother’s presence be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful, but not an improbable, conjecture.
Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which made her two daughters ashamed, especially when contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address to his friend.
Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the latter the preservation of her favorite daughter from irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful degree by a distinction so ill applied.
Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did, a question which she could not answer without confusion, said scarcely anything. He was not seated by her, and perhaps that was the reason of his silence. Several minutes elapsed without bringing the sound of his voice, and when she was unable to resist the impulse of curiosity she raised he eyes to his face. She as often found him looking at Jane as at herself, and frequently on no object but the ground. More thoughtfulness and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry with herself for being so.
“Could I expect it to be otherwise?” she thought.
She was in no humor for conversation with anyone but himself, and to him she had hardly courage to speak.
She inquired after his sister, but could do no more.
“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet.
He readily agreed to it. “Yes, it is.”
“I began to fear you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas. However, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighborhood 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 lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked, therefore, she could not tell. Every fiber of her being seemed pulled in his direction and she wanted nothing more than to banish the others from the room so that she may speak freely to him. But, what would she say? How to begin such a conversation? Insecurity thickened her tongue and she merely stared at the tips of her shoes.
“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” continued her mother, “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, and there they are to stay. His regiment is there. I suppose you have heard of his leaving the militia, 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 leveled at Mr. Darcy, was in such misery of shame, that she could hardly keep her seat. It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which nothing else had so effectually done before. She asked Bingley, “Do you mean to stay in the country?”
“A few weeks,” he answered with a boyishly charming smile.
“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” said her mother, “I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr. Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you.”
Elizabeth’s misery increased, at such unnecessarily officious attention. At that instant, she felt that years of happiness could not make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful confusion. Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no compensation, received material relief, as Elizabeth observed how much her sister’s beauty rekindled the admiration of her former lover. When first he came in, he had spoken to her but little, but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention. He found her as handsome as she had been last year, as good natured, as unaffected, though not quite so talkative. Jane was anxious that no difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was silent.
When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of her intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to dine at Longbourn in a few days time.
“You will remember, Mr. Bingley,” she added, “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. I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”
Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.
Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that day. Though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs, or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year.
As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption on those subjects that must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy’s behavior astonished and vexed her. Quite alone, she said, “Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent did he come at all?”
She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.
“He could be still amiable to my uncle and aunt when he was in town, 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 pathetic resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look, which showed her better satisfied with their visitors, than Elizabeth.
“Now,” said Jane, “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,” said 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 did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday. Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes, which the good humor and common politeness of Bingley in half-an-hour’s visit, had revived.
On Tuesday there
was a large party assembled at Longbourn. The two who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When they went to the dining room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to see whether Bingley would take the place, which in all their former parties had belonged to him, by her sister. Her prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to hesitate, but Jane happened to look round, and happened to smile. It was decided. He placed himself by her.
Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his friend. He bore it with noble indifference, and she would have imagined that Bingley had received his sanction to be happy, had she not seen his eyes likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy, with an expression of half-laughing alarm.
His behavior to her sister showed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than formerly, persuaded Elizabeth that, if left wholly to himself, Jane’s happiness and his own would be speedily secured. Though she dared not depend upon it, she received pleasure from observing them. It gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast, for she was in no cheerful humor. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as the table could divide them. He was on one side of her mother. She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could see how seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was their manner whenever they did. Her mother’s ungraciousness, made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind. At times, she would have given anything to be privileged to tell him that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of the family.
She hoped the evening would afford some opportunity of bringing them together, and that the visit would not pass without enabling them to enter into conversation beyond the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the period which passed in the drawing room, before the gentlemen came, was wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil. She looked forward to their entrance as all her chance of pleasure for the evening depended on it.
To herself, she whispered, “If he does not come to me, I shall give him up forever.”
The gentlemen came in. She thought Darcy looked as if he would answer her hope, but, alas, the ladies had crowded round the table where Miss Bennet was making tea and Elizabeth pouring coffee. There was not a single vacancy near her which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, Kitty moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper, “The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them, do we?”
Darcy walked to another part of the room. She followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, and had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee.
She became enraged against herself for being silly. How could she expect a man who had been once refused to seek her out? How could she be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Was there one among the male sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman?
She was a little revived from her dejection when he brought back his coffee cup. She seized the opportunity by saying, “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 could think of nothing more to say. If he wished to converse with her, he might have better success, but he stood by her for some minutes in silence. Then, on Kitty’s whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away.
Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen for supper, but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.
“Well girls,” said she, as soon as they were left to themselves, “What say you to the day? I think everything has passed off uncommonly well. 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. 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 she agreed with me.”
Mrs. Bennet was in very great spirits. She had seen enough of Bingley’s behavior towards Jane to be convinced that she would get him at last, and her expectations of advantage to her family were so far beyond reason, that she was disappointed at not seeing him there again the next day to make his proposals.
“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Jane to Elizabeth. “The party seemed 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. I assure you that I have now learned 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,” said 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 FORTY-SEVEN
A FEW DAYS AFTER THIS VISIT, Mr. Bingley called again, and alone. His friend had left him that morning for London, but was to return home 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, but with many expressions of concern he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.
“Next time you call,” said she, “I hope we shall be more lucky.”
“I should be particularly happy at any time, and if you would give me leave, I will take an early opportunity of accepting your offer.”
“Can you come tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Mr. Bingley agreed. “I have no engagement at all for tomorrow. I would be delighted.”
When he arrived the following day, the ladies were not dressed. Mrs. Bennet ran into her daughter’s room in her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, cried out, “My dear Jane, make haste. He is come — Mr. Bingley is come. 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,” said Jane, “but I daresay 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 mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to go down without one of her sisters.
The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again in the evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without making any impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her. When at last Kitty did, she very innocently said, “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 still five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious occasion, she suddenly got up, and said to Kitty, “Com
e here, my love, I want to speak to you,” and took her out of the room. Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty that she would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs. Bennet half-opened the door and called out, “Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you.”
Elizabeth was forced to go.
“We may as well leave them by themselves you know,” said her mother, as soon as she was in the hall. “Kitty and I are going upstairs to sit in my dressing room.”
Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but remained quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were out of sight, then returned into the drawing room.
Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was everything that was charming, except the professed lover of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a most agreeable addition to their evening party, and he bore with the ill-judged officiousness of the mother, and heard all her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance particularly grateful to the daughter.
He scarcely needed an invitation to stay for supper. Before he went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own and Mrs. Bennet’s means, for his coming next morning to shoot with her husband.
After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference. Not a word passed between the sisters concerning Bingley, but Elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all must speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy returned within the stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably persuaded that all this must have taken place with that gentleman’s concurrence.
Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) Page 35
