CHAPTER III.
Mrs. Gardiner's caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given onthe first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone; afterhonestly telling her what she thought, she thus went on:
”You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because youare warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speakingopenly. Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involveyourself, or endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want offortune would make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against_him_; he is a most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune heought to have, I should think you could not do better. But as it is--youmust not let your fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we allexpect you to use it. Your father would depend on _your_ resolution andgood conduct, I am sure. You must not disappoint your father.”
”My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”
”Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”
”Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care ofmyself, and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if Ican prevent it.”
”Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”
”I beg your pardon. I will try again. At present I am not in love withMr. Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison,the most agreeable man I ever saw--and if he becomes really attached tome--I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the imprudenceof it.--Oh! _that_ abominable Mr. Darcy!--My father's opinion of me doesme the greatest honour; and I should be miserable to forfeit it. Myfather, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my dear aunt, Ishould be very sorry to be the means of making any of you unhappy; butsince we see every day that where there is affection, young people areseldom withheld by immediate want of fortune, from entering intoengagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so manyof my fellow creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that itwould be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is notto be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his firstobject. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short,I will do my best.”
”Perhaps it will be as well, if you discourage his coming here so veryoften. At least, you should not _remind_ your Mother of inviting him.”
”As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth, with a conscious smile; ”verytrue, it will be wise in me to refrain from _that_. But do not imaginethat he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has beenso frequently invited this week. You know my mother's ideas as to thenecessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon myhonour, I will try to do what I think to be wisest; and now, I hope youare satisfied.”
Her aunt assured her that she was; and Elizabeth having thanked her forthe kindness of her hints, they parted; a wonderful instance of advicebeing given on such a point, without being resented.
Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quittedby the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took up his abode with the Lucases,his arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His marriage wasnow fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned as to thinkit inevitable, and even repeatedly to say in an ill-natured tone thatshe ”_wished_ they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the wedding day,and on Wednesday Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and when she roseto take leave, Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother's ungracious andreluctant good wishes, and sincerely affected herself, accompanied herout of the room. As they went down stairs together, Charlotte said,
”I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”
”_That_ you certainly shall.”
”And I have another favour to ask. Will you come and see me?”
”We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”
”I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, tocome to Hunsford.”
Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in thevisit.
”My father and Maria are to come to me in March,” added Charlotte, ”andI hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will beas welcome to me as either of them.”
The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent fromthe church door, and every body had as much to say or to hear on thesubject as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend; and theircorrespondence was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that itshould be equally unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could neveraddress her without feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over,and, though determined not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for thesake of what had been, rather than what was. Charlotte's first letterswere received with a good deal of eagerness; there could not but becuriosity to know how she would speak of her new home, how she wouldlike Lady Catherine, and how happy she would dare pronounce herself tobe; though, when the letters were read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotteexpressed herself on every point exactly as she might have foreseen. Shewrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothingwhich she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, androads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine's behaviour was mostfriendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins's picture of Hunsford andRosings rationally softened; and Elizabeth perceived that she must waitfor her own visit there, to know the rest.
Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to announce theirsafe arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped itwould be in her power to say something of the Bingleys.
Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatiencegenerally is. Jane had been a week in town, without either seeing orhearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing thather last letter to her friend from Longbourn, had by some accident beenlost.
”My aunt,” she continued, ”is going to-morrow into that part of thetown, and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor-street.”
She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley.”I did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, ”but she was veryglad to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my comingto London. I was right, therefore; my last letter had never reached her.I enquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so muchengaged with Mr. Darcy, that they scarcely ever saw him. I found thatMiss Darcy was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit wasnot long, as Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shallsoon see them here.”
Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her, thataccident only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister's being in town.
Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured topersuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer beblind to Miss Bingley's inattention. After waiting at home every morningfor a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, thevisitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more,the alteration of her manner, would allow Jane to deceive herself nolonger. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister, willprove what she felt.
”My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in her better judgment, at my expence, when I confess myself to have been entirely deceived in Miss Bingley's regard for me. But, my dear sister, though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I still assert, that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend her reason for wishing to be intimate with me, but if the same circumstances were to happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive in the mean time. When she did come, it was very evident that she had no pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal, apology, for not calling before, said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so altered a creature, that when she went away, I was perfectly resolved to continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming her. She was very wrong in singling me out as she did; I can safely say, that every advance to intimacy began on her side. But I pity her, because she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself farther; and though _we_ know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet if she feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she may feel on his behalf, is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at her having any such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we must have met long, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am certain, from something she said herself; and yet it should seem by her manner of talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself that he is really partial to Miss Darcy. I cannot understand it. If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost tempted to say, that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavour to banish every painful thought, and think only of what will make me happy, your affection, and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me hear from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not with any certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have such pleasant accounts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them, with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there.
”Your's, &c.”
This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned as sheconsidered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least.All expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would noteven wish for any renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on everyreview of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possibleadvantage to Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr.Darcy's sister, as, by Wickham's account, she would make him abundantlyregret what he had thrown away.
Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promiseconcerning that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth hadsuch to send as might rather give contentment to her aunt than toherself. His apparent partiality had subsided, his attentions were over,he was the admirer of some one else. Elizabeth was watchful enough tosee it all, but she could see it and write of it without material pain.Her heart had been but slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfiedwith believing that _she_ would have been his only choice, had fortunepermitted it. The sudden acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the mostremarkable charm of the young lady, to whom he was now rendering himselfagreeable; but Elizabeth, less clear-sighted perhaps in his case thanin Charlotte's, did not quarrel with him for his wish of independence.Nothing, on the contrary, could be more natural; and while able tosuppose that it cost him a few struggles to relinquish her, she wasready to allow it a wise and desirable measure for both, and could verysincerely wish him happy.
All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating thecircumstances, she thus went on:--”I am now convinced, my dear aunt,that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced thatpure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name,and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordialtowards _him_; they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot findout that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to thinkher a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. Mywatchfulness has been effectual; and though I should certainly be a moreinteresting object to all my acquaintance, were I distractedly in lovewith him, I cannot say that I regret my comparative insignificance.Importance may sometimes be purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia takehis defection much more to heart than I do. They are young in the waysof the world, and not yet open to the mortifying conviction thathandsome young men must have something to live on, as well as theplain.”