by M-C Ranger
‘To be incapable of forgiveness, that is quite a flaw! But you have chosen well, Mr. Darcy, because one cannot really laugh about it,’ Elizabeth emphasised, mockingly.
‘Mr. Darcy, allow me to reassure you that withdrawing your esteem for someone who does not at all deserve it, even if it is, as you say, definitive, is not, strictly speaking, a flaw,’ interrupted Miss Bingley, who could not suffer the thought of someone criticising the master of Pemberley.
Without even taking into consideration the interruption, Darcy added, for the intention of Elizabeth Bennet, ‘There is, I believe, within each of us, a natural flaw that the best education cannot hide.’
Because this comment was heard by everyone, silence filled the room, but the rather dry retort by Elizabeth was immediate.
‘Yours is the tendency to despise your equals.’
‘And yours is to take a malicious pleasure in distorting their thoughts,’ countered Darcy, in the same tone.
More affected than he let on, he delved into his reading of Hume. Jane Bennet, discomfited, lowered her eyes. Decidedly, her sister would never change, always so lively and direct. Not a single word escaped the notice of Frank Churchill and he could not help but steal an admiring glance at this Miss Elizabeth, able to stand up to the sombre and taciturn Fitzwilliam Darcy. This, of course, was the source of much displeasure to Miss Bingley who, exasperated by the situation that she was responsible for provoking, turned towards her sister to subtly solicit her help. The latter began to play a catchy tune on the piano when she heard her brother, aware of the discomfort, resume the conversation on a more mundane subject.
‘Frank, as you just arrived in Hertfordshire, what are your initial impressions?’
‘I haven’t really had the time or the opportunity to form an opinion, but this region reminds me of the one where I was born, Surrey.’
‘Really, Mr. Churchill, would you be prepared to return and settle there?’ asked Caroline Bingley, who hoped to find in him an ally against her brother and his taste for the country.
‘I… I can’t confirm that,’ the young man replied, hesitating for a few seconds. ‘But if I think about it, yes, I could picture myself settling there, just like Bingley, if the company is just as pleasant.
‘You are right. That is what I have incessantly been trying to explain to my sisters, ever since my arrival here at Netherfield,’ replied Bingley, looking deliberately at Miss Bennet who, feeling a blush creep across her face, lowered her eyes to her hands, primly crossed on her shawl.
‘Charles,’ Darcy intervened, ‘I believe I could succeed in convincing you to leave Netherfield, persuade you that, if need be, this would be better for you.’
‘You believe that your bond of friendship would justify a decision such as this on the part of Bingley,’ commented Frank Churchill, his tone sceptical. ‘In any case, I do not feel that I have such a strong influence over any friend, unless it is because I am clearly lacking in certain talents.’
‘It’s true,’ Bingley stated sarcastically, ‘let us not forget any of the details of the problem, including the size and weight of the protagonists.’
‘Although Mr. Darcy is larger than you, I doubt that this would be sufficient to distract you from your decision,’ added Jane Bennet, timidly.
‘This counts much more than you might believe, Miss Bennet,’ he continued in jest, happy that the young woman was showing interest. ‘I assure you that if Darcy was not such a large and vigorous man, I would not show him half the respect I show him now!’
‘Mr. Bingley,’ said Elizabeth, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, ‘I dare not imagine the fear that Mr. Darcy might inspire on a rainy Sunday evening in the dark countryside of Derbyshire, particularly if he has nothing to do!’
There was an eruption of laughter in response to the somewhat impertinent comment of the young woman; Frank Churchill seemed most amused. This was far from being the case for the ladies of Netherfield, who witnessed the attention of the young people constantly turned towards the local guests, despite the immense effort they had invested in the evening. As for Mr. Darcy, who was at first surprised by the remark, the features of his face hardened, but if one were to look more closely, one might have detected a hint of interest in his eyes, fixed on the mutinous face of Elizabeth Bennet. In any case, this is naturally what Miss Anne Elliot would have seen, had she been there.
*****
The carriage rolled onto the roadway and disappeared. Charles Bingley went back inside. Miss Bennet had gone and taken a bit of him with her. Because he was not morose by nature, he climbed the stairs, four at a time. The ball! He had to start planning it and invite Miss Bennet! Oh yes! And obviously, all of Meryton would be in attendance. And then, tomorrow or the day after, he could return to Longbourn to inquire as to the health of the charming convalescing young woman. What a good idea it had been to come settle in Hertfordshire! No, decidedly, with all due respect to Darcy, nobody would make him leave Netherfield Park so easily.
Chapter IV
In which we will be happy to learn that,
because ridicule does not kill,
Mr. Bennet will be able to continue to mock
the peculiarities of his fellow men
Mrs. Philips could not help but smile widely when she passed by the little drawing room, from which issued the sound of lively conversation and bursts of laugher. While the young servant helped her mistress don her woollen cape, Mrs. Philips gave her some instructions.
‘I shall not be back before four thirty this afternoon because, after going to the seamstress, I plan to see Mrs. White, so I shall not be back in time for tea. Susanna, you shall therefore serve tea when Maria Lucas has arrived to visit with my nieces.’
Mrs. Philips had barely made it out the door when Maria, out of breath, presented herself. The young girls, happy to see each other again, had so many confidences to exchange. After all, a full forty-eight hours had passed since their last encounter.
‘I have some news, but it’s of little interest,’ Kitty began, ‘as it has nothing to do with the officers.’
‘Still, let us know,’ Maria Lucas impressed upon her, as she had felt rather bored the last two days.
‘We have a visitor.’
‘And your visitor’s not interesting?’, asked Catherine, reaching for a scone.
‘No, not in the least. In fact, it is the cousin of our father, and we have to be polite and treat him with kindness… even if I find him absolutely ridiculous,’ exclaimed Lydia, taking another biscuit from the plate Susanna had placed near her.
In this regard, the effusive youngest of the Bennet girls was probably correct. Just as Elizabeth, who had pointed out, once their father had finished reading aloud the letter from Mr. Collins, that the style was rather pompous, and that he appeared to be a singular character and one had to wonder whether he was a man with a great deal of sense. To which their father had replied that he would most certainly discover that the opposite was true. In addition, his letter exhibited a combination of servility and importance that intrigued him, whence his great impatience to make his acquaintance.
‘Ridicule? How so?’
‘Imagine, Mr. Collins likes to bestow the ladies with compliments, and Father asked him if his compliments came to him spontaneously, or whether he had prepared them beforehand,’ Kitty explained, laughing.
‘Oh, in general, spontaneously,’ Lydia said, imitating Mr. Collins’ bombastic tone. ‘I also enjoy preparing some in advance, but I always force myself to employ them as naturally as possible!’
They burst into laughter on hearing the impersonation performed by Lydia, who was exceptionally good at ridiculing a situation.
‘And why do you have to be nice to him?’ Maria Lucas continued.
‘Because, if Father dies, the Longbourn estate will be passed on to him,’ Kitty explained.
It should be noted that Jane and Elizabeth tried, in vain, to make their mother understand that it was an entail, and what it meant, f
rom a legal perspective. They had even tried on several occasions, but Mrs. Bennet refused to listen to the voice of reason when it came to this subject. She persisted in protesting bitterly against the cruelty of disinheriting a family with five daughters in favour of a man about whom nobody cared. And lo and behold, who should turn up but the person in whom nobody had concerns and who was the cause of so much worry to Mrs. Bennet.
‘An entail? What a horrible thing!’ exclaimed Maria. ‘And why is this cousin coming to see you now? After all, your father seems to be in good health.’
‘Yes, but I believe that there was some rancour between Father and Mr. Collins’ father.’
‘So, this is why he has come to pay you a visit. He is taking steps towards a reconciliation. That stands in his favour, don’t you think?’ commented Catherine, whose education in her father’s parish made her more charitable.
‘Oh no, Catherine, it’s not at all what you think it is.’
‘What do you wish to say, Lydia?’ asked the younger of the Lucas daughters.
Kitty and Lydia looked at each other, and, in a confidential tone, told their friends that it appeared that the true reason that had brought Mr. Collins to Longbourn was that he was in search of a wife. Yes, yes, a wife! Their cousin had apparently received orders from his benefactress, a certain Lady de Bourgh, that he marry and quickly return to the Hunsford parish with a humble young woman from a good family, one who was capable of running a household.
Mr. Collins, who had received this order in the spring, had barely had the time to devote himself to this type of pursuit. It should be known that the former was lacking in intelligence, but neither education nor experience had helped him address this issue. Despite this, he had come because he conveniently remembered the existence of his cousins. And he had the presence of mind, for once, to kill two birds with one stone: to proffer the olive branch of reconciliation, a gesture that could not be more Christian in nature, and in quest of marriage, one that would fulfil the wishes of his patroness and attenuate, in a matter of sorts, the entail on Longbourn. All that remained was to offer one of his five cousins the marvellous prospect of reigning over the Hunsford parish under the gracious shadow of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
On leaving the home of their Aunt Philips, the young Bennet ladies, accompanied by Maria Lucas, met Elizabeth, Jane and Mr. Collins, who were out for a walk to Meryton. Lydia elbowed Maria and lifted her chin towards her cousin, whereupon they laughed amongst themselves. The group was crossing the main street just when Capitan Denny approached them. And who was accompanying the captain? An elegant young man whose only flaw appeared to be the fact that he was not wearing a military uniform. Nevertheless, he attracted the gaze of all the women in the group, even though Denny felt some resentment. While Mr. Collins struggled to understand the paramount importance of this confluence, twenty steps away or so, Mrs. Goulding, returning from the haberdashery, immediately saw the significance of the scene unfolding before her. She paid even more attention when she saw two men on horseback approach the small group. One of them dismounted to greet the young ladies, but, to her great surprise, the other, after hesitating momentarily, continued on his way. When he reached her, Mrs. Goulding recognised the rider to be Mr. Darcy. She was not really surprised. Since the evening at Meryton, her first impressions had been confirmed: this man, despite his fortune, was haughty, even disdainful. But the entire scene was worth retelling. For this reason, her steps, which were supposed to lead her home, took her instead directly to Mrs. Philips, who had returned home a short time ago. While the latter did not have any children, she had always taken the interests of her sister Fanny, who had five daughters to marry, to heart. After revelling in her neighbour’s colourful narrative, Mrs. Philips decided to extend the invitation to her little evening gathering to the newly arrived man, a certain Mr. Wickham, who hastily accepted, much to the delight of all of the fairer sex.
*****
Elizabeth had the opportunity to observe Mr. Collins at the height of his art when he was presented to their hostess. It must be said that the veneration that was inspired by his noble protector, combined with the high opinion he had of himself and his pastoral authority, gave her cousin a singular blend of servility, vanity and obsequiousness. All of this seemed to escape Mrs. Philips, who amicably welcomed him and invited him to join her and a few friends for a game of cards. Moved by this attention, Mr. Collins nevertheless asked his charming cousin for permission; he did not wish to distance himself from the object of his attentions, as he in no case wished to fail in what he considered his most important task. When he sat down at the card table, Elizabeth came to the realisation that, of all the Bennet girls, she was the one who had been chosen to bring happiness to her cousin, and, of course, to be the fourth player at the table in a game of whist at Rosings Park in the absence of more noble visitors. Somewhat discouraged by this thought, she sought refuge at the other end of the room and was delighted to see Mr. Wickham get up from the table where several guests were playing casino and move towards her, a smile on his face. At last, the evening promised to be interesting.
The officers from the regiment, for the most part, were from good families, and the most distinguished amongst them were present that evening, but the elegant appearance and manners of George Wickham were no less superior. This is, at least, the impression that most of the female guests had on being presented to him. There were, therefore, a few envious looks when he bowed before Elizabeth and began a pleasant conversation with his happy interlocutor.
‘What do you suppose Mr. Wickham is telling your sister?’ Catherine Morland quietly asked Kitty.
Kitty raised her eyes to take in the scene. Then, leaning towards Lydia, she whispered something into her ear, but as the card game demanded their full attention, the matter was pursued no further. As soon as the game was over, Lydia quickly got up, joined Elizabeth, and successfully managed to enchant her interlocutor so much, that he’d soon asked her stole her sister’s interlocutor to bring him to dance; Mary had agreed to play a melody that was more captivating than John Field’s concerto, which she had been labouring over for some ten minutes.
‘You see, Catherine, all I had to say to Lydia was that Elizabeth seemed very much to be appreciating the conversation of a certain new officer,’ Kitty said, laughing.
‘You shouldn’t have, Elizabeth will be so angry. That’s all my fault, I’m too curious!’
‘Or too sentimental!’ her friend interrupted. ‘You thought he was murmuring sweet nothings into her ear, didn’t you?’
‘In any case, that does not seem to be pleasing Lydia,’ Catherine added, in an effort to bring the topic of conversation to someone else.
‘Nor Mr. Collins. Look, he has just returned to Elizabeth, and I can imagine that she is already sighing,’ commented Maria Lucas, who had followed the exchange between the two young girls with great interest.
‘It appears you are correct, Maria. Mr. Collins is bestowing Lizzy with all his attention. Now that you mention it, I realise that my mother must have explained to our cousin that Jane was already as good as engaged, and so he must have decided to set his sights on the second eldest in the family.’
*****
Longbourn, the 19th of November 1810
Dear Anne,
I hope that this letter finds you well and that the weather is somewhat nicer in Somerset than it is here, where it has been raining for two days. Thank you for your kind letter. There is no longer any need for you to worry about Jane’s health; she has fully recovered.
Incidentally, we were at our Aunt Philips’s yesterday evening; she had invited several officers, including a certain Mr. Wickham, who had been presented to me that very morning. I know you are discrete, and so I must admit to you that his manners are most charming and that he is a handsome man. However, he appears to have experienced a highly distressing situation that changed the circumstances of his life. Can you imagine that the person who robbed him is one who both you and I know
… Mr. Darcy! I know that this seems rather difficult to believe, but the details that Mr. Wickham disclosed to me can hardly be fictional. Imagine that his father was the steward of the Pemberley estate; he and Mr. Darcy grew up together. When Mr. Wickham’s father died, Mr. Darcy’s father, who had always held the young man in great esteem, promised him a vicarage so that he could establish himself. Alas, Mr. Darcy’s father died five years ago, and when Mr. Wickham came to claim that which had been promised to him, it was denied him. Is that not horrible?
I am certain that this story moves you as much as it moved me. Of course, I recounted the details to nobody else except Jane, as you can appreciate; I do not wish to divulge the woes to which poor Mr. Wickham was subject. But I cannot help but be offended by the extreme lack of compassion shown by Mr. Darcy, never mind the lack of respect he has shown towards the memory of his father! Dear Anne, you, who are…
‘Oh, there you are, Lizzy! At last I have found you,’ exclaimed Jane, coming into her sister’s room. ‘Oh, I’m disturbing you, please excuse me.’
‘No, that’s fine, I can finish my letter to Anne Elliot later. Do you need help?’
‘Miss Anne! I hope that she and her sister are well. Mother is waiting for us in the small drawing room, we have visitors,’ said Jane, her beautiful face lit up with a smile. ‘You will never guess who has just arrived.’
