Pride and Prejudice and Kitties

by Jane Austen

  “Let me be rightly understood,” Lady Cat continued. “Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. From their kittenhood, they have been intended for each other. It was the favorite wish of his mother, as well as of hers. Even before they were able to open their eyes, we planned the union.”

  “If Mr. Darcy is neither by honor nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice?” asked Elizabeth. “And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”

  “Because pedigree, papers, prudence forbid it. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble lion—I mean line; and, on the father’s, from a respectable, honorable, and ancient breed.”

  Lady Cat then pressed Elizabeth to promise never to accept Mr. Darcy’s proposal.

  “I will make no promise of the kind,” retorted Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more docile, domesticated cat.”

  “You have widely mistaken the character of my catness,” growled Elizabeth, “if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject.”

  “Not so hasty, if you please, I am 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. And is such a wild uncivilized animal to be my nephew’s sister? Are the grounds of Pemberley to be thus polluted? Unfeeling, selfish cat!”

  In this manner Lady Cat yowled on till they were at the door of the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she hissed: “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.”

  “Miss Bennet,” replied her ladyship, in an angry 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.”

  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.

  “If you believed it impossible to be true,” said 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,” said 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 infatu ation, 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.”

  ELIZABETH WAS EXCESSIVELY discomposed by Lady Cat’s ill-natured and unprovoked attack and could not refrain from some anxiety about her ladyship’s influence on Mr. Darcy. How seriously, she wondered, did he depend on the advice of his alpha aunt, or rely upon her counsel? Did he, too, fear that Elizabeth would pollute the splendid woods of Pemberley?

  If I don’t see him at Longbourn again, she said to herself, I will know how to understand it.

  The next morning, Mr. Bennet called Elizabeth into his library. He was amusing himself in batting a letter from Mr. Collins around the rug and kicking it with his paws. He invited Elizabeth to join in the fun.

  The contents of the letter offered less sport for Elizabeth. Mr. Collins wrote to warn Lizzy against making a match with Mr. Darcy, as Lady Cat disapproved so strenuously.

  “Mr. Darcy,” wrote Mr. Collins, “possesses every thing a cat desires: splendid scratching trees, acres of soft dirt to dig in, noble pedigree. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself,” he continued, “of the evils you may incur by a precipitate closure with this noble cat’s advances, which of course, you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.”

  He was amusing himself in batting a letter from Mr. Collins around the rug.

  “Mr. Darcy!” marveled Mr. Bennet, “Who never looks at any female but to criticize a crooked tail or tattered ear, and who probably never looked at you in his life! It is admirable!”

  Mr. Collins went on to express surprise that Mr. Bennet had welcomed Lydia and Wickham to Longbourn.

  “You ought certainly to forgive them, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing,” he wrote.

  “And he calls that forgiveness!” her father exclaimed.

  Elizabeth recalled how her father had forgiven Kitty when she threw up a hair ball on the drawing room rug, and Mary when she scratched a favorite sofa to shreds, and could rejoice in her father’s benevolence as well as his humor, though never had the latter been directed in a manner so scarcely agreeable to her.

  “‘Your daughter Elizabeth [Mr. Collins’s letter continued], it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her elder sister has resigned it, and the chosen partner of her fate, may be reasonably looked up to, as one of the most illustrious personages in this land.’

  “Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this? ‘This young gentleman is blessed in a peculiar way, with every thing the heart of mortal can most desire,—splendid property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur, by a precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course, you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.’

  “Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out.”

  “‘My motive for cautioning you, is as follows. We have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly eye.’

  “Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man!”

  ELIZABETH DID NOT have to wonder for long if she would see Mr. Darcy again; several days after Lady Cat’s visit, he came to Long-bourn with Mr. Bingley.

  The two toms had been there only a short time when Bingley, who wanted to escape with Jane, proposed a walk. Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy, and Kitty joined them. Bingley and Jane soon lagged behind and Kitty ran down the lane to join Maria Lucas in a squirrel chase. Elizabeth then found herself alone with Mr. Darcy. She took the opportunity to express her gratitude for his help in restoring Lydia’s reputation and respecta
bility.

  “If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. Much as I respect your family, I believe I thought only of you.” After a short pause, he 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 my meows on this subject for ever.”

  Elizabeth then gave him to understand with chirps and trills that she welcomed his assurances of love and constancy with great pleasure. Mr. Darcy responded by rolling excitedly on his back— something Elizabeth had never known him to do before.

  As they walked on, Darcy related that Lady Cat had visited him in London to complain bitterly about Elizabeth’s obstinacy in refusing to refuse to marry him.

  “It taught me to hope as I never had before,” Darcy confessed.

  Other than dictating, Lady Cat liked nothing more than being useful, Elizabeth reflected with amusement. And her usefulness in teaching her nephew to hope had never been better appreciated by Elizabeth than it was now.

  He exposed himself as sensibly as a cat violently in love can be supposed to do.

  “If you will thank me,” [Darcy] 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 too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short 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 the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand, that her sentiments had undergone so material a change, since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure, his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced, was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do.

  ELIZABETH AND DARCY wandered so long and happily down one lane and another that everyone was asking for them when they got back. Elizabeth worried that, in spite of his being such a handsome and prosperous tom, her family would not approve of her match with him, so disliked was Mr. Darcy for his proud, haughty manner and cuddling deficiencies.

  At the first opportunity, Elizabeth acquainted Jane with her news.

  “You are joking, Lizzy,” said Jane. “This cannot be! Engaged to Mr. Darcy?!”

  After a few playful frisks, Elizabeth settled down and assured her sister it was true. Mr. Darcy still loved her and they were indeed engaged.

  * * *

  “Good gracious!” cried Mrs. Bennet, as she stood at a window the next morning. “If that disagreeable Darcy-cat is not visiting again with our dear Bingley! What can he mean by being so tiresome as to be always coming here?”

  Elizabeth and Darcy took to the lanes again and during their walk it was decided that the next cat to be made acquainted with their wishes was Mr. Bennet. To this end, Mr. Darcy slipped into Mr. Bennet’s library after dinner. A short while later, her father called Elizabeth into the library. He was pacing back and forth across the room. “Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this cat? Have not you always hated him?”

  How earnestly did Elizabeth then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her meows more moderate! It would have spared her from professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary and she assured her father, with some confusion, of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.

  “Or, in other words,” Mr. Bennet replied, “you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have finer toys and more sumptuous satin pillows than Jane. But will they make you happy?”

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

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

  “I do, I do like him,” she replied. “I love him.”

  Elizabeth went on to tell her father what a truly fine feline Mr. Darcy was, and to complete the favorable impression, she related what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia. Mr. Bennet heard her with astonishment.

  “Had it been your uncle’s doing,” he assured her, “I must and would have paid him; but these violent young toms carry every thing their own way. I shall offer to pay him tomorrow; he will yowl and carry on about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.”

  Now Elizabeth had only to break the news to her mother. Its effect was most extraordinary; for on first hearing it, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, unable to utter a syllable. She began at length to recover, to fidget about in her chair, jump down, jump up again, wonder aloud, and then wash herself.

  “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 dinners, what collars, what comfortable cat carriers you will have! Jane’s is nothing to it—nothing at all. Such a charming cat! So handsome, so distinguished! Oh, my dear Lizzy, pray apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I hope he will overlook it.”

  Jane looked at 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 still looked all amazement. Elizabeth again, and more seriously assured her of its truth.

  “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 any thing 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.”

  I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.

  ELIZABETH’S SPIRITS SOON rising to playfulness again, she spent the next morning cavorting in the copse with Mr. Darcy and teasing him about how he happened to become attached to her. She settled the matter nicely herself by supposing that her saucy nature, so different from that of other female cats who followed him everywhere, imitating his tastes and meowing pitifully when he was out of sight, was a refreshing change.

  Both cats had news to communicate—Mr. Darcy to his aunt and Elizabeth to hers. This was soon done. Jane herself received a congratulatory letter from Caroline Bingley, but Elizabeth, looking over her sister’s shoulder, detected several claw marks on it, which Jane kindly chose to overlook.

  Georgiana’s happiness in anticipating
acquiring a sister was much more sincere and both Elizabeth and Darcy looked forward to all the comforts and coziness of their family party at Pemberley.

  “My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect [said Elizabeth]. 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 your’s. 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.”

  Anne, what the hell am I supposed to do with this stupid wedding veil?

  SINCE BIRTH, MRS. Bennet had nursed and nudged, licked and lamented over her five kittens, and happy were her maternal feelings the day she got rid of her two most deserving—though it cannot be said that their brilliant matches taught her either delicacy or decorum.

  Kitty improved as any kitty would who spends her time in the superior company of her two more sensible siblings. And although Lydia frequently tried to tempt her to visit with promises of toys and toms, Mr. Bennet would never consent to her going.

  Mary alone of the five sisters stayed at home. Mrs. Bennet’s love of company, however, compelled her daughter to socialize more and sleep less (although Mary had always professed to be philosophizing when her sisters caught her napping).