CHAPTER XVIII.
Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield and looked invain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, adoubt of his being present had never occurred to her. The certainty ofmeeting him had not been checked by any of those recollections thatmight not unreasonably have alarmed her. She had dressed with more thanusual care, and prepared in the highest spirits for the conquest of allthat remained unsubdued of his heart, trusting that it was not more thanmight be won in the course of the evening. But in an instant arose thedreadful suspicion of his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy'spleasure in the Bingleys' invitation to the officers; and though thiswas not exactly the case, the absolute fact of his absence waspronounced by his friend Mr. Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, andwho told them that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on businessthe day before, and was not yet returned; adding, with a significantsmile,
”I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, ifhe had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here.”
This part of his intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught byElizabeth, and as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable forWickham's absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feelingof displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediatedisappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility tothe polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached tomake.--Attention, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury toWickham. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him, andturned away with a degree of ill humour, which she could not whollysurmount even in speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose blind partialityprovoked her.
But Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humour; and though every prospectof her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on herspirits; and having told all her griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she hadnot seen for a week, she was soon able to make a voluntary transition tothe oddities of her cousin, and to point him out to her particularnotice. The two first dances, however, brought a return of distress;they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn,apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without beingaware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeablepartner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release fromhim was ecstacy.
She danced next with an officer, and had the refreshment of talking ofWickham, and of hearing that he was universally liked. When those danceswere over she returned to Charlotte Lucas, and was in conversation withher, when she found herself suddenly addressed by Mr. Darcy, who tookher so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, withoutknowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away againimmediately, and she was left to fret over her own want of presence ofmind; Charlotte tried to console her.
”I dare say you will find him very agreeable.”
”Heaven forbid!--_That_ would be the greatest misfortune of all!--Tofind a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate!--Do not wish mesuch an evil.”
When the dancing recommenced, however, and Darcy approached to claim herhand, Charlotte could not help cautioning her in a whisper not to be asimpleton and allow her fancy for Wickham to make her appear unpleasantin the eyes of a man of ten times his consequence. Elizabeth made noanswer, and took her place in the set, amazed at the dignity to whichshe was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, andreading in her neighbours' looks their equal amazement in beholding it.They stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began toimagine that their silence was to last through the two dances, and atfirst was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it wouldbe the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk, she madesome slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent.After a pause of some minutes she addressed him a second time with
”It is _your_ turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy.--_I_ talked aboutthe dance, and _you_ ought to make some kind of remark on the size ofthe room, or the number of couples.”
He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should besaid.
”Very well.--That reply will do for the present.--Perhaps by and bye Imay observe that private balls are much pleasanter than publicones.--But _now_ we may be silent.”
”Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?”
”Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to beentirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of_some_, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have thetrouble of saying as little as possible.”
”Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do youimagine that you are gratifying mine?”
”Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; ”for I have always seen a greatsimilarity in the turn of our minds.--We are each of an unsocial,taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to saysomething that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down toposterity with all the eclat of a proverb.”
”This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,”said he. ”How near it may be to _mine_, I cannot pretend to say.--_You_think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”
”I must not decide on my own performance.”
He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone downthe dance, when he asked her if she and her sisters did not very oftenwalk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resistthe temptation, added, ”When you met us there the other day, we had justbeen forming a new acquaintance.”
The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread hisfeatures, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth, though blaming herselffor her own weakness, could not go on. At length Darcy spoke, and in aconstrained manner said,
”Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his_making_ friends--whether he may be equally capable of _retaining_ them,is less certain.”
”He has been so unlucky as to lose _your_ friendship,” replied Elizabethwith emphasis, ”and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from allhis life.”
Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject. Atthat moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to passthrough the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr.Darcy he stopt with a bow of superior courtesy to compliment him on hisdancing and his partner.
”I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. Such verysuperior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to thefirst circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does notdisgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated,especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza, (glancingat her sister and Bingley,) shall take place. What congratulations willthen flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy:--but let me not interrupt you,Sir.--You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitchingconverse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me.”
The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy; but SirWilliam's allusion to his friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and hiseyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley andJane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly,he turned to his partner, and said,
”Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”
”I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not haveinterrupted any two people in the room who had less to say forthemselves.--We have tried two or three subjects already withoutsuccess, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”
”What think you of books?” said he, smiling.
”Books--Oh! no.--I am sure we never read the same, or not with the samefeelings.”
”I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least beno want of subject.--We may compare our different opinions.”
”No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full ofsomething else.”
”The _present_ always occupies you in such scenes--does it?” said he,with a look of doubt.
”Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said, for herthoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appearedby her suddenly exclaiming, ”I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy,that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created wasunappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its _beingcreated_.”
”I am,” said he, with a firm voice.
”And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”
”I hope not.”
”It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion,to be secure of judging properly at first.”
”May I ask to what these questions tend?”
”Merely to the illustration of _your_ character,” said she, endeavouringto shake off her gravity. ”I am trying to make it out.”
”And what is your success?”
She shook her head. ”I do not get on at all. I hear such differentaccounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.”
”I can readily believe,” answered he gravely, ”that report may varygreatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you werenot to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason tofear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
”But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have anotheropportunity.”
”I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,” he coldly replied.She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted insilence; on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, forin Darcy's breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her,which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger againstanother.
They had not long separated when Miss Bingley came towards her, and withan expression of civil disdain thus accosted her,
”So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are quite delighted with GeorgeWickham!--Your sister has been talking to me about him, and asking me athousand questions; and I find that the young man forgot to tell you,among his other communications, that he was the son of old Wickham, thelate Mr. Darcy's steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend,not to give implicit confidence to all his assertions; for as to Mr.Darcy's using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, hehas been always remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham hastreated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. I do not know theparticulars, but I know very well that Mr. Darcy is not in the least toblame, that he cannot bear to hear George Wickham mentioned, and thatthough my brother thought he could not well avoid including him in hisinvitation to the officers, he was excessively glad to find that he hadtaken himself out of the way. His coming into the country at all, is amost insolent thing indeed, and I wonder how he could presume to do it.I pity you, Miss Eliza, for this discovery of your favourite's guilt;but really considering his descent, one could not expect much better.”
”His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same,” saidElizabeth angrily; ”for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worsethan of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward, and of _that_, I canassure you, he informed me himself.”
”I beg your pardon,” replied Miss Bingley, turning away with a sneer.”Excuse my interference.--It was kindly meant.”
”Insolent girl!” said Elizabeth to herself.--”You are much mistaken ifyou expect to influence me by such a paltry attack as this. I seenothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr.Darcy.” She then sought her eldest sister, who had undertaken to makeinquiries on the same subject of Bingley. Jane met her with a smile ofsuch sweet complacency, a glow of such happy expression, as sufficientlymarked how well she was satisfied with the occurrences of theevening.--Elizabeth instantly read her feelings, and at that momentsolicitude for Wickham, resentment against his enemies, and every thingelse gave way before the hope of Jane's being in the fairest way forhappiness.
”I want to know,” said she, with a countenance no less smiling than hersister's, ”what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you havebeen too pleasantly engaged to think of any third person; in which caseyou may be sure of my pardon.”
”No,” replied Jane, ”I have not forgotten him; but I have nothingsatisfactory to tell you. Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of hishistory, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which haveprincipally offended Mr. Darcy; but he will vouch for the good conduct,the probity and honour of his friend, and is perfectly convinced thatMr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he hasreceived; and I am sorry to say that by his account as well as hissister's, Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable young man. I amafraid he has been very imprudent, and has deserved to lose Mr. Darcy'sregard.”
”Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?”
”No; he never saw him till the other morning at Meryton.”
”This account then is what he has received from Mr. Darcy. I amperfectly satisfied. But what does he say of the living?”
”He does not exactly recollect the circumstances, though he has heardthem from Mr. Darcy more than once, but he believes that it was left tohim _conditionally_ only.”
”I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley's sincerity,” said Elizabeth warmly;”but you must excuse my not being convinced by assurances only. Mr.Bingley's defence of his friend was a very able one I dare say, butsince he is unacquainted with several parts of the story, and has learntthe rest from that friend himself, I shall venture still to think ofboth gentlemen as I did before.”
She then changed the discourse to one more gratifying to each, and onwhich there could be no difference of sentiment. Elizabeth listened withdelight to the happy, though modest hopes which Jane entertained ofBingley's regard, and said all in her power to heighten her confidencein it. On their being joined by Mr. Bingley himself, Elizabeth withdrewto Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry after the pleasantness of her lastpartner she had scarcely replied, before Mr. Collins came up to them andtold her with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate as tomake a most important discovery.
”I have found out,” said he, ”by a singular accident, that there is nowin the room a near relation of my patroness. I happened to overhear thegentleman himself mentioning to the young lady who does the honours ofthis house the names of his cousin Miss de Bourgh, and of her motherLady Catherine. How wonderfully these sort of things occur! Who wouldhave thought of my meeting with--perhaps--a nephew of Lady Catherine deBourgh in this assembly!--I am most thankful that the discovery is madein time for me to pay my respects to him, which I am now going to do,and trust he will excuse my not having done it before. My totalignorance of the connection must plead my apology.”
”You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy?”
”Indeed I am. I shall intreat his pardon for not having done it earlier.I believe him to be Lady Catherine's _nephew_. It will be in my power toassure him that her ladyship was quite well yesterday se'night.”
Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme; assuring himthat Mr. Darcy would consider his addressing him without introduction asan impertinent freedom, rather than a compliment to his aunt; that itwas not in the least necessary there should be any notice on eitherside, and that if it were, it must belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior inconsequence, to begin the acquaintance.--Mr. Collins listened to herwith the determined air of following his own inclination, and when sheceased speaking, replied thus,
”My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world of yourexcellent judgment in all matters within the scope of yourunderstanding, but permit me to say that there must be a wide differencebetween the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and thosewhich regulate the clergy; for give me leave to observe that I considerthe clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rankin the kingdom--provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at thesame time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictatesof my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I lookon as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by youradvice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, thoughin the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education andhabitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady likeyourself.” And with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy, whosereception of his advances she eagerly watched, and whose astonishment atbeing so addressed was very evident. Her cousin prefaced his speech witha solemn bow, and though she could not hear a word of it, she felt as ifhearing it all, and saw in the motion of his lips the words ”apology,””Hunsford,” and ”Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”--It vexed her to see himexpose himself to such a man. Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrainedwonder, and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, repliedwith an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins, however, was notdiscouraged from speaking again, and Mr. Darcy's contempt seemedabundantly increasing with the length of his second speech, and at theend of it he only made him a slight bow, and moved another way. Mr.Collins then returned to Elizabeth.
”I have no reason, I assure you,” said he, ”to be dissatisfied with myreception. Mr. Darcy seemed much pleased with the attention. He answeredme with the utmost civility, and even paid me the compliment of saying,that he was so well convinced of Lady Catherine's discernment as to becertain she could never bestow a favour unworthily. It was really a veryhandsome thought. Upon the whole, I am much pleased with him.”
As Elizabeth had no longer any interest of her own to pursue, she turnedher attention almost entirely on her sister and Mr. Bingley, and thetrain of agreeable reflections which her observations gave birth to,made her perhaps almost as happy as Jane. She saw her in idea settled inthat very house in all the felicity which a marriage of true affectioncould bestow; and she felt capable under such circumstances, ofendeavouring even to like Bingley's two sisters. Her mother's thoughtsshe plainly saw were bent the same way, and she determined not toventure near her, lest she might hear too much. When they sat down tosupper, therefore, she considered it a most unlucky perverseness whichplaced them within one of each other; and deeply was she vexed to findthat her mother was talking to that one person (Lady Lucas) freely,openly, and of nothing else but of her expectation that Jane would besoon married to Mr. Bingley.--It was an animating subject, and Mrs.Bennet seemed incapable of fatigue while enumerating the advantages ofthe match. His being such a charming young man, and so rich, and livingbut three miles from them, were the first points of self-gratulation;and then it was such a comfort to think how fond the two sisters were ofJane, and to be certain that they must desire the connection as much asshe could do. It was, moreover, such a promising thing for her youngerdaughters, as Jane's marrying so greatly must throw them in the way ofother rich men; and lastly, it was so pleasant at her time of life to beable to consign her single daughters to the care of their sister, thatshe might not be obliged to go into company more than she liked. It wasnecessary to make this circumstance a matter of pleasure, because onsuch occasions it is the etiquette; but no one was less likely than Mrs.Bennet to find comfort in staying at home at any period of her life. Sheconcluded with many good wishes that Lady Lucas might soon be equallyfortunate, though evidently and triumphantly believing there was nochance of it.
In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to check the rapidity of her mother'swords, or persuade her to describe her felicity in a less audiblewhisper; for to her inexpressible vexation, she could perceive that thechief of it was overheard by Mr. Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Hermother only scolded her for being nonsensical.
”What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him? I amsure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to saynothing _he_ may not like to hear.”
”For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower.--What advantage can it be to youto offend Mr. Darcy?--You will never recommend yourself to his friend byso doing.”
Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her motherwould talk of her views in the same intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushedand blushed again with shame and vexation. She could not help frequentlyglancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though every glance convinced her of whatshe dreaded; for though he was not always looking at her mother, she wasconvinced that his attention was invariably fixed by her. The expressionof his face changed gradually from indignant contempt to a composed andsteady gravity.
At length however Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Lady Lucas, whohad been long yawning at the repetition of delights which she saw nolikelihood of sharing, was left to the comforts of cold ham and chicken.Elizabeth now began to revive. But not long was the interval oftranquillity; for when supper was over, singing was talked of, and shehad the mortification of seeing Mary, after very little entreaty,preparing to oblige the company. By many significant looks and silententreaties, did she endeavour to prevent such a proof ofcomplaisance,--but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such anopportunity of exhibiting was delightful to her, and she began her song.Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on her with most painful sensations; and shewatched her progress through the several stanzas with an impatiencewhich was very ill rewarded at their close; for Mary, on receivingamongst the thanks of the table, the hint of a hope that she might beprevailed on to favour them again, after the pause of half a minutebegan another. Mary's powers were by no means fitted for such a display;her voice was weak, and her manner affected.--Elizabeth was in agonies.She looked at Jane, to see how she bore it; but Jane was very composedlytalking to Bingley. She looked at his two sisters, and saw them makingsigns of derision at each other, and at Darcy, who continued howeverimpenetrably grave. She looked at her father to entreat hisinterference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint,and when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud,
”That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough.Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.”
Mary, though pretending not to hear, was somewhat disconcerted; andElizabeth sorry for her, and sorry for her father's speech, was afraidher anxiety had done no good.--Others of the party were now applied to.
”If I,” said Mr. Collins, ”were so fortunate as to be able to sing, Ishould have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with anair; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectlycompatible with the profession of a clergyman.--I do not mean however toassert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time tomusic, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. Therector of a parish has much to do.--In the first place, he must makesuch an agreement for tythes as may be beneficial to himself and notoffensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the timethat remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the careand improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from makingas comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importancethat he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannotacquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who shouldomit an occasion of testifying his respect towards any body connectedwith the family.” And with a bow to Mr. Darcy, he concluded his speech,which had been spoken so loud as to be heard by half the room.--Manystared.--Many smiled; but no one looked more amused than Mr. Bennethimself, while his wife seriously commended Mr. Collins for havingspoken so sensibly, and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas, thathe was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.
To Elizabeth it appeared, that had her family made an agreement toexpose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it wouldhave been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit, orfiner success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sisterthat some of the exhibition had escaped his notice, and that hisfeelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which hemust have witnessed. That his two sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, shouldhave such an opportunity of ridiculing her relations was bad enough, andshe could not determine whether the silent contempt of the gentleman, orthe insolent smiles of the ladies, were more intolerable.
The rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teazed byMr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her side, and though hecould not prevail with her to dance with him again, put it out of herpower to dance with others. In vain did she entreat him to stand up withsomebody else, and offer to introduce him to any young lady in the room.He assured her that as to dancing, he was perfectly indifferent to it;that his chief object was by delicate attentions to recommend himself toher, and that he should therefore make a point of remaining close to herthe whole evening. There was no arguing upon such a project. She owedher greatest relief to her friend Miss Lucas, who often joined them, andgood-naturedly engaged Mr. Collins's conversation to herself.
She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy's farther notice;though often standing within a very short distance of her, quitedisengaged, he never came near enough to speak. She felt it to be theprobable consequence of her allusions to Mr. Wickham, and rejoiced init.
The Longbourn party were the last of all the company to depart; and by amanoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet had to wait for their carriages a quarter ofan hour after every body else was gone, which gave them time to see howheartily they were wished away by some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and hersister scarcely opened their mouths except to complain of fatigue, andwere evidently impatient to have the house to themselves. They repulsedevery attempt of Mrs. Bennet at conversation, and by so doing, threw alanguor over the whole party, which was very little relieved by thelong speeches of Mr. Collins, who was complimenting Mr. Bingley and hissisters on the elegance of their entertainment, and the hospitality andpoliteness which had marked their behaviour to their guests. Darcy saidnothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal silence, was enjoying the scene.Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing together, a little detached from therest, and talked only to each other. Elizabeth preserved as steady asilence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was toomuch fatigued to utter more than the occasional exclamation of ”Lord,how tired I am!” accompanied by a violent yawn.
When at length they arose to take leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressinglycivil in her hope of seeing the whole family soon at Longbourn; andaddressed herself particularly to Mr. Bingley, to assure him how happyhe would make them, by eating a family dinner with them at any time,without the ceremony of a formal invitation. Bingley was all gratefulpleasure, and he readily engaged for taking the earliest opportunity ofwaiting on her, after his return from London, whither he was obliged togo the next day for a short time.
Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and quitted the house under thedelightful persuasion that, allowing for the necessary preparations ofsettlements, new carriages and wedding clothes, she should undoubtedlysee her daughter settled at Netherfield, in the course of three or fourmonths. Of having another daughter married to Mr. Collins, she thoughtwith equal certainty, and with considerable, though not equal, pleasure.Elizabeth was the least dear to her of all her children; and though theman and the match were quite good enough for _her_, the worth of eachwas eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.