A VICARAGE HOUSE.]
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE:
A Novel.
In Three Volumes.
By the Author of ”Sense and Sensibility.”
VOL. II.
London:Printed for T. Egerton,Military Library, Whitehall.1813.
PRIDE & PREJUDICE.
CHAPTER I.
Miss Bingley's letter arrived, and put an end to doubt. The very firstsentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London forthe winter, and concluded with her brother's regret at not having hadtime to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he leftthe country.
Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest ofthe letter, she found little, except the professed affection of thewriter, that could give her any comfort. Miss Darcy's praise occupiedthe chief of it. Her many attractions were again dwelt on, and Carolineboasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predictthe accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her formerletter. She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother's being aninmate of Mr. Darcy's house, and mentioned with raptures, some plans ofthe latter with regard to new furniture.
Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this,heard it in silent indignation. Her heart was divided between concernfor her sister, and resentment against all the others. To Caroline'sassertion of her brother's being partial to Miss Darcy she paid nocredit. That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than shehad ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, shecould not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easinessof temper, that want of proper resolution which now made him the slaveof his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness tothe caprice of their inclinations. Had his own happiness, however, beenthe only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in whatever manner he thought best; but her sister's was involved in it, as shethought he must be sensible himself. It was a subject, in short, onwhich reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing. Shecould think of nothing else, and yet whether Bingley's regard had reallydied away, or were suppressed by his friends' interference; whether hehad been aware of Jane's attachment, or whether it had escaped hisobservation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of him must bematerially affected by the difference, her sister's situation remainedthe same, her peace equally wounded.
A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings toElizabeth; but at last on Mrs. Bennet's leaving them together, after alonger irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she couldnot help saying,
”Oh! that my dear mother had more command over herself; she can have noidea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him. But Iwill not repine. It cannot last long. He will be forgot, and we shallall be as we were before.”
Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but saidnothing.
”You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; ”indeed you have noreason. He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of myacquaintance, but that is all. I have nothing either to hope or fear,and nothing to reproach him with. Thank God! I have not _that_ pain. Alittle time therefore.--I shall certainly try to get the better.”
With a stronger voice she soon added, ”I have this comfort immediately,that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that ithas done no harm to any one but myself.”
”My dear Jane!” exclaimed Elizabeth, ”you are too good. Your sweetnessand disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say toyou. I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as youdeserve.”
Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw backthe praise on her sister's warm affection.
”Nay,” said Elizabeth, ”this is not fair. _You_ wish to think all theworld respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of any body. _I_ onlywant to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it. Do not beafraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on yourprivilege of universal good will. You need not. There are few peoplewhom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I seeof the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirmsmy belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of thelittle dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either meritor sense. I have met with two instances lately; one I will not mention;the other is Charlotte's marriage. It is unaccountable! in every view itis unaccountable!”
”My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these. They willruin your happiness. You do not make allowance enough for difference ofsituation and temper. Consider Mr. Collins's respectability, andCharlotte's prudent, steady character. Remember that she is one of alarge family; that as to fortune, it is a most eligible match; and beready to believe, for every body's sake, that she may feel somethinglike regard and esteem for our cousin.”
”To oblige you, I would try to believe almost any thing, but no one elsecould be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded thatCharlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of herunderstanding, than I now do of her heart. My dear Jane, Mr. Collins isa conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man; you know he is, as wellas I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marrieshim, cannot have a proper way of thinking. You shall not defend her,though it is Charlotte Lucas. You shall not, for the sake of oneindividual, change the meaning of principle and integrity, norendeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, andinsensibility of danger, security for happiness.”
”I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” repliedJane, ”and I hope you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happytogether. But enough of this. You alluded to something else. Youmentioned _two_ instances. I cannot misunderstand you, but I intreatyou, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking _that person_ to blame, andsaying your opinion of him is sunk. We must not be so ready to fancyourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young manto be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing butour own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more thanit does.”
”And men take care that they should.”
”If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no ideaof there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.”
”I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley's conduct to design,”said Elizabeth; ”but without scheming to do wrong, or to make othersunhappy, there may be error, and there may be misery. Thoughtlessness,want of attention to other people's feelings, and want of resolution,will do the business.”
”And do you impute it to either of those?”
”Yes; to the last. But if I go on, I shall displease you by saying whatI think of persons you esteem. Stop me whilst you can.”
”You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him.”
”Yes, in conjunction with his friend.”
”I cannot believe it. Why should they try to influence him? They canonly wish his happiness, and if he is attached to me, no other woman cansecure it.”
”Your first position is false. They may wish many things besides hishappiness; they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; theymay wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, greatconnections, and pride.”
”Beyond a doubt, they _do_ wish him to chuse Miss Darcy,” replied Jane;”but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing. They haveknown her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they loveher better. But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikelythey should have opposed their brother's. What sister would thinkherself at liberty to do it, unless there were something veryobjectionable? If they believed him attached to me, they would not tryto part us; if he were so, they could not succeed. By supposing such anaffection, you make every body acting unnaturally and wrong, and me mostunhappy. Do not distress me by the idea. I am not ashamed of having beenmistaken--or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison ofwhat I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters. Let me take itin the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.”
Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley'sname was scarcely ever mentioned between them.
Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning nomore, and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not accountfor it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering itwith less perplexity. Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of whatshe did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merelythe effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he sawher no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted atthe time, she had the same story to repeat every day. Mrs. Bennet's bestcomfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.
Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently. ”So, Lizzy,” said he one day,”your sister is crossed in love I find. I congratulate her. Next tobeing married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then.It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction amongher companions. When is your turn to come? You will hardly bear to belong outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are officers enough atMeryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country. Let Wickhambe _your_ man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.”
”Thank you, Sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must notall expect Jane's good fortune.”
”True,” said Mr. Bennet, ”but it is a comfort to think that, whatever ofthat kind may befal you, you have an affectionate mother who will alwaysmake the most of it.”
Mr. Wickham's society was of material service in dispelling the gloom,which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbournfamily. They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was nowadded that of general unreserve. The whole of what Elizabeth had alreadyheard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him,was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and every body waspleased to think how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before theyhad known any thing of the matter.
Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be anyextenuating circumstances in the case, unknown to the society ofHertfordshire; her mild and steady candour always pleaded forallowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes--but by everybody elseMr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.