The Annotated Pride and Prejudice

by Jane Austen

  Darcy was fixed in astonishment. “When I consider” she added, in a yet more 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,43 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,44 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?45 How are they even to be discovered?46 I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!”

  Darcy shook his head in silent acquiesence.

  “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!”47

  Darcy made no answer. He seemed scarcely to hear her, and was walking up and down the room in earnest meditation; his brow contracted, his air gloomy. Elizabeth soon observed, and instantly understood it.48 Her power49 was sinking; every thing must sink under such a proof of family weakness, such an assurance of the deepest disgrace. She could neither wonder nor condemn, but the belief of his self-conquest50 brought nothing consolatory to her bosom, afforded no palliation of her distress. It was, on the contrary, exactly calculated to make her understand her own wishes; and never had she so honestly felt that she could have loved him, as now, when all love must be vain.51

  But self, though it would intrude, could not engross her. Lydia —the humiliation, the misery, she was bringing on them all, soon swallowed up every private care; and covering her face with her handkerchief, Elizabeth was soon lost to every thing else; and, after a pause of several minutes, was only recalled to a sense of her situation by the voice of her companion, who, in a manner, which though it spoke compassion,52 spoke likewise restraint, said, “I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I any thing to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that any thing 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.53 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 apologize 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—again expressed his sorrow for her distress, wished it a happier conclusion than there was at present reason to hope, and leaving his compliments for her relations, with only one serious, parting, look, went away.

  As he quitted the room, Elizabeth felt how improbable it was that they should ever see each other again on such terms of cordiality as had marked their several meetings in Derbyshire; and as she threw a retrospective glance over the whole of their acquaintance, so full of contradictions and varieties,54 sighed at the perverseness of those feelings which would now have promoted its continuance, and would formerly have rejoiced in its termination.55

  If gratitude and esteem are good foundations of affection, Elizabeth's change of sentiment will be neither improbable nor faulty. But if otherwise, if the regard springing from such sources is unreasonable or unnatural, in comparison of what is so often described as arising on a first interview with its object, and even before two words have been exchanged,56 nothing can be said in her defence, except that she had given somewhat of a trial to the latter method, in her partiality for Wickham, and that its ill-success might perhaps authorise her to seek the other less interesting mode of attachment.57 Be that as it may, she saw him go with regret; and in this early example of what Lydia's infamy must produce, found additional anguish as she reflected on that wretched business. Never, since reading Jane's second letter, had she entertained a hope of Wickham's meaning to marry her. No one but Jane, she thought, could flatter herself with such an expectation. Surprise was the least of her feelings on this developement.58 While the contents of the first letter remained on her mind, she was all surprise —all astonishment that Wickham should marry a girl, whom it was impossible he could marry for money; and how Lydia could ever have attached him, had appeared incomprehensible. But now it was all too natural. For such an attachment as this, she might have sufficient charms;59 and though she did not suppose Lydia to be deliberately engaging in an elopement, without the intention of marriage, she had no difficulty in believing that neither her virtue60 nor her understanding would preserve her from falling an easy prey.

  She had never perceived, while the regiment was in Hertfordshire, that Lydia had any partiality for him, but she was convinced that Lydia had wanted only encouragement to attach herself to any body. Sometimes one officer, sometimes another had been her favourite, as their attentions raised them in her opinion.61 Her affections had been continually fluctuating, but never without an object. The mischief62 of neglect and mistaken indulgence towards such a girl —Oh! how acutely did she now feel it.

  She was wild63 to be at home —to hear, to see, to be upon the spot, to share with Jane in the cares that must now fall wholly upon her, in a family so deranged;64 a father absent, a mother incapable of exertion, and requiring constant attendance; and though almost persuaded that nothing could be done for Lydia, her uncle's interference seemed of the utmost importance, and till he entered the room, the misery of her impatience was severe. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had hurried back in alarm, supposing, by the servant's account, that their niece was taken suddenly ill;—but satisfying them instantly on that head, she eagerly communicated the cause of their summons, reading the two letters aloud, and dwelling on the postscript of the last, with trembling energy.—Though Lydia had never been a favourite with them, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could not but be deeply affected. Not Lydia only, but all were concerned in it;65 and after the first exclamations of surprise and horror, Mr. Gardiner readily promised every assistance in his power.—Elizabeth, though expecting no less, thanked him with tears of gratitude; and all three being actuated by one spirit, every thing relating to their journey was speedily settled. They were to be off as soon as possible. “But what is to be done about Pemberley?” cried Mrs. Gardiner. “John66 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.”

  “That is all settled;” repeated the other, as she ran into her room to prepare. “And are they upon such terms as for her to disclose the real truth! Oh, that I knew how it was!”

  But wishes were vain; or at best could serve only to amuse her in the hurry and confusion of the following hour. Had Elizabeth been at leisure to be idle, she would have remained certain that all employment was impossible to one so wretched as herself; but she had her share of business as well as her aunt, and amongst the rest there were notes to be written to all their friends in Lambton, with false excuses for their sudden departure. An hour, however, saw the whole completed; and Mr. Gardiner meanwhile having settled his account at the inn, nothing remained to be done but to go; and Elizabeth, after all the misery of the morning, found herself, in a shorter space of time than she could have supposed, seated in the carriage, and on the road to Longbourn.

  1. Her expectation of a letter indicates they must have had a fixed itinerary, at least for the last part of the trip where they were visiting Mrs. Gardiner's former residence; this would allow others to know where to send the letters.

  2. direction: address.<
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  3. Jane's bad writing would be explained by agitation, the reason for which shortly becomes apparent. This delay in the letter is another of the accidents that assist the story. Had the first letter arrived earlier, Elizabeth and the Gar-diners would have had to leave the area before seeing Darcy, or after seeing him only briefly. Had only the first letter, with its more limited news, come at this point, Elizabeth would not have been as shocked by what she read, and thus not as likely to reveal her distress to Darcy.

  The arrival of the two letters together also adds to the drama of the moment, and marks a more thorough transition to a new section of the novel, in which the relationship of Elizabeth and Darcy again leaves center stage.

  4. For the correspondence between the days and events mentioned in Jane's letters, and those in Elizabeth's visit to Pemberley and Lambton, see chronology, pp. 717-718.

  5. A large proportion of Jane Austen's own surviving letters contain just such a record of ordinary events in the country.

  6. intelligence: information, news.

  7. express: express message conveyed by a special messenger (someone hired just to carry this message), or the messenger himself.

  8. This would be to marry, since only in Scotland could someone under 21 marry without parental consent.

  9. The underlined words that were mentioned earlier as part of the letters of Lydia to Kitty suggest that the two shared many secrets (see p. 440).

  10. Jane presumably means they should rejoice because it is their sister's marriage, and there is no use lamenting what cannot be prevented now.

  11. It indicates nothing bad at heart because marriage, even an imprudent one, is an honorable course of action. Jane, as always, attempts to place the most favorable interpretation on everything; this is something she will find especially difficult to do in the case of Wickham and Lydia.

  12. Since Lydia has almost no dowry, and Mr. Bennet is in no position to add to it, Wickham's choice of her does not stem from monetary interest.

  13. directly: immediately.

  14. Hertfordshire is just north of London, so the road to Scotland would pass through it; one of the towns mentioned below, Hatfield, is in Hertfordshire.

  15. Wickham and Lydia's elopement is the most dramatic, if not melodramatic, episode in the novel. Many have questioned its appropriateness, for in many ways it has greater affinities with the romances Jane Austen satirizes than with the social comedy and realism of her works—this may be one reason why she does not present the elopement directly, but has it be referred to and summarized by others. It is also not strictly required for the plot, for Darcy and Elizabeth are already moving toward reconciliation and love without it.

  The episode does, however, aid that reconciliation ultimately, and it allows for a further demonstration of Darcy's good qualities and devotion to Elizabeth. In addition, it helps underline some important themes of the novel, in particular by revealing even more the error of Elizabeth's judgment of Wickham, and by providing an example of a bad love and marriage that contrasts with the better ones that conclude the story. Finally, while the episode has its melodramatic aspects, it has been carefully prepared by what has already been shown of the characters of Wickham and Lydia.

  16. confined: pressed.

  17. answer for being coherent: guarantee that I will be coherent.

  18. Gretna Green: the Scottish town that was the first encountered after crossing the border with England on the main road (see map, p. 742). It was where English people wishing to marry in Scotland normally went, and it built up a substantial business in such marriages. In a novel Jane Austen knew extremely well, Fanny Burney's Camilla, the sister of the heroine elopes with an unscrupulous fortune hunter and marries him in Gretna Green.

  19. B.: Brighton. The frequent use in this letter of capital letters to stand for persons and places is something also found in Jane Austen's correspondence.

  20. Glapham: a south London neighborhood; hence their last stop before reaching the main part of London.

  21. hackney-coach: a hired coach, similar to a cab, for transport around town. Their switching to it, away from the chaise that was being used for intercity transport, indicates an intention to stay in London.

  22. Epsom: a town between Brighton and London. See map, p. 745.

  23. London road: road into London.

  24. side London: side of London, i.e., southern London.

  25. turnpikes: barriers where people using a road would have to stop and pay tolls. To improve its long-distance roads the English government had granted authority to turnpike trusts, private enterprises that built new roads and then garnered the income generated by tolls on travelers.

  26. Bamet and Hatfield: towns north of London (see map, p. 745). Inns are where travelers would stop to change horses, as well as to eat or refresh themselves. If Wickham and Lydia were continuing north to Scotland they could have been seen at one of these stops, or by a toll collector at a turnpike.

  27. In fact, most people would blame them, since, as the hosts of a young unmarried girl, they had a strict responsibility to supervise her.

  28. eligible: desirable, suitable.

  29. manied privately in town: married secretly in London; this was another way of marrying without parental consent. It involved the use of the banns, which were public notices of an impending marriage announced on three successive Sundays in church. If no one stepped forward to show legal reasons for stopping the marriage, it could then take place. Because of the enormous growth of population in London and other cities, and the Church of England's failure to increase the number of churches and clergy serving this population, many urban clergy had extremely large parishes and thus far too many marriages on their hands to verify whether each couple requesting marriage really fulfilled the legal requirements of age and residency. Furthermore, if the couple were from outside the city their families were unlikely to hear of the marriage in time to step forward and prevent it.

  30. keeps: keeps to, remains in.

  31. my father: this phrase and its equivalents—“my mother,” “my aunt,” etc.—are used throughout the novel, even when, as is true here, one sister is talking to the other and thus could logically use “our” rather than “my” (as she does occasionally). It is clearly a convention of the time: in her own letters to her sister Jane Austen also speaks of “my mother” and “my father.”

  32. A significant event, given Mr. Bennet's usual aloof indifference.

  33. has anger: is the object of others' anger.

  34. own: confess.

  35. exigence: exigency, urgent circumstances.

  36. impetuous: violent, vehement.

  37. Politeness would dictate letting her pass without interruption, but his feelings of concern overcome that. Such a rare occurrence for the formal Darcy indicates his affection for Elizabeth, as well as her highly agitated state.

  38. It was normal for ladies to travel with a maid to help them with dressing, grooming, packing, etc. A later incident indicates that Elizabeth does not have her own personal maid (see p. 624, and p. 625, note 5). It is possible that one maid came from either the Bennets or the Gardiners to serve both Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner. It is also possible that Darcy is just assuming, incorrectly, that Elizabeth has a personal maid, for that would certainly be the norm in the wealthy social circles that he is accustomed to; each of Bing-ley's sisters has already been described as having her own maid.

  39. Wine was generally considered to have medicinal properties, so people were often offered wine if they were in need of physical relief or revival.

  40. no connections: no family connections of importance. Good family connections could give Wickham an incentive to marry her.

  41. Tempt him to marry her. Elizabeth's failure to finish the thought signals her agitation; she may also prefer not even to mention the idea of marriage, since such an outcome seems too unlikely to hope for at this juncture.

  42. Elizabeth's extreme reaction would be normal for the time.
For a young woman to run off and live with a man without marriage was considered almost the worst sin she could commit, and it was one that would forever taint her and probably prevent her from ever marrying anyone respectable or entering decent society. It is this particularly that makes her “lost for ever” (though the term also could mean lost forever in a moral sense).

  43. Meaning what she learned from Darcy about Wickham and Miss Darcy—something of course that Darcy entreated her not to tell to others.

  44. Sunday night: it was actually on Saturday night according to Jane's letter, though since they left around midnight their journey would have mostly occurred during the early hours of Sunday morning.

  45. worked on: influenced, persuaded (to marry Lydia).

  46. London by this time was an enormous city; the census of 1811, just before this novel appeared, showed it containing more than a million people. Hence it would be an easy place to escape discovery.

  47. Elizabeth's berating of herself for her secrecy about Wickham has a particular importance, one that she, in her agitated state, probably cannot guess. Since her listener is the one ultimately responsible for this secrecy, he would have even more reason to feel at fault for what occurred. Later he does reproach himself for this, and adduce it as his reason for coming to Lydia's rescue. It is likely that Elizabeth's words here help prompt him to blame himself, at least partly, for what has occurred and to decide he must remedy it.

  48. The reasons for Darcy's being so pensive and serious, reasons very different from what Elizabeth supposes, are revealed later (see p. 674).

  49. Her power: her power of attraction over him.

  50. self-conquest: conquering his love for her, which he would do because of this family disgrace.

  51. This is the first time that Elizabeth has spoken, to herself or others, of actual love for Darcy. In another novel, Emma, the heroine, one who is also guilty of serious errors of judgment, comes to realize and acknowledge her love of the hero only at the moment when she receives information suggesting he may marry someone else. In both cases, it seems a necessary penance for the heroine, one that gives her greater appreciation for the hero and for her own earlier errors and that makes their eventual union even deeper and more satisfying.