CHAPTER XVII.
Elizabeth's impatience to acquaint Jane with what had happened could nolonger be overcome; and at length resolving to suppress every particularin which her sister was concerned, and preparing her to be surprised,she related to her the next morning the chief of the scene between Mr.Darcy and herself.
Miss Bennet's astonishment was soon lessened by the strong sisterlypartiality which made any admiration of Elizabeth appear perfectlynatural; and all surprise was shortly lost in other feelings. She wassorry that Mr. Darcy should have delivered his sentiments in a manner solittle suited to recommend them; but still more was she grieved for theunhappiness which her sister's refusal must have given him.
”His being so sure of succeeding, was wrong,” said she; ”and certainlyought not to have appeared; but consider how much it must increase hisdisappointment.”
”Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, ”I am heartily sorry for him; but he hasother feelings which will probably soon drive away his regard for me.You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?”
”Blame you! Oh, no.”
”But you blame me for having spoken so warmly of Wickham.”
”No--I do not know that you were wrong in saying what you did.”
”But you _will_ know it, when I have told you what happened the verynext day.”
She then spoke of the letter, repeating the whole of its contents as faras they concerned George Wickham. What a stroke was this for poor Jane!who would willingly have gone through the world without believing thatso much wickedness existed in the whole race of mankind, as was herecollected in one individual. Nor was Darcy's vindication, thoughgrateful to her feelings, capable of consoling her for such discovery.Most earnestly did she labour to prove the probability of error, andseek to clear one, without involving the other.
”This will not do,” said Elizabeth. ”You never will be able to make bothof them good for any thing. Take your choice, but you must be satisfiedwith only one. There is but such a quantity of merit between them; justenough to make one good sort of man; and of late it has been shiftingabout pretty much. For my part, I am inclined to believe it all Mr.Darcy's, but you shall do as you chuse.”
It was some time, however, before a smile could be extorted from Jane.
”I do not know when I have been more shocked,” said she. ”Wickham sovery bad! It is almost past belief. And poor Mr. Darcy! dear Lizzy, onlyconsider what he must have suffered. Such a disappointment! and with theknowledge of your ill opinion too! and having to relate such a thing ofhis sister! It is really too distressing. I am sure you must feel itso.”
”Oh! no, my regret and compassion are all done away by seeing you sofull of both. I know you will do him such ample justice, that I amgrowing every moment more unconcerned and indifferent. Your profusionmakes me saving; and if you lament over him much longer, my heart willbe as light as a feather.”
”Poor Wickham; there is such an expression of goodness in hiscountenance! such an openness and gentleness in his manner.”
”There certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of thosetwo young men. One has got all the goodness, and the other all theappearance of it.”
”I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the _appearance_ of it as youused to do.”
”And yet I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a disliketo him, without any reason. It is such a spur to one's genius, such anopening for wit to have a dislike of that kind. One may be continuallyabusive without saying any thing just; but one cannot be always laughingat a man without now and then stumbling on something witty.”
”Lizzy, when you first read that letter, I am sure you could not treatthe matter as you do now.”
”Indeed I could not. I was uncomfortable enough. I was veryuncomfortable, I may say unhappy. And with no one to speak to, of what Ifelt, no Jane to comfort me and say that I had not been so very weak andvain and nonsensical as I knew I had! Oh! how I wanted you!”
”How unfortunate that you should have used such very strong expressionsin speaking of Wickham to Mr. Darcy, for now they _do_ appear whollyundeserved.”
”Certainly. But the misfortune of speaking with bitterness, is a mostnatural consequence of the prejudices I had been encouraging. There isone point, on which I want your advice. I want to be told whether Iought, or ought not to make our acquaintance in general understandWickham's character.”
Miss Bennet paused a little and then replied, ”Surely there can be nooccasion for exposing him so dreadfully. What is your own opinion?”
”That it ought not to be attempted. Mr. Darcy has not authorised me tomake his communication public. On the contrary every particular relativeto his sister, was meant to be kept as much as possible to myself; andif I endeavour to undeceive people as to the rest of his conduct, whowill believe me? The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent,that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton, toattempt to place him in an amiable light. I am not equal to it. Wickhamwill soon be gone; and therefore it will not signify to anybody here,what he really is. Sometime hence it will be all found out, and then wemay laugh at their stupidity in not knowing it before. At present I willsay nothing about it.”
”You are quite right. To have his errors made public might ruin him forever. He is now perhaps sorry for what he has done, and anxious tore-establish a character. We must not make him desperate.”
The tumult of Elizabeth's mind was allayed by this conversation. She hadgot rid of two of the secrets which had weighed on her for a fortnight,and was certain of a willing listener in Jane, whenever she might wishto talk again of either. But there was still something lurking behind,of which prudence forbad the disclosure. She dared not relate the otherhalf of Mr. Darcy's letter, nor explain to her sister how sincerely shehad been valued by his friend. Here was knowledge in which no one couldpartake; and she was sensible that nothing less than a perfectunderstanding between the parties could justify her in throwing off thislast incumbrance of mystery. ”And then,” said she, ”if that veryimprobable event should ever take place, I shall merely be able to tellwhat Bingley may tell in a much more agreeable manner himself. Theliberty of communication cannot be mine till it has lost all its value!”
She was now, on being settled at home, at leisure to observe the realstate of her sister's spirits. Jane was not happy. She still cherished avery tender affection for Bingley. Having never even fancied herself inlove before, her regard had all the warmth of first attachment, and fromher age and disposition, greater steadiness than first attachments oftenboast; and so fervently did she value his remembrance, and prefer him toevery other man, that all her good sense, and all her attention to thefeelings of her friends, were requisite to check the indulgence of thoseregrets, which must have been injurious to her own health and theirtranquillity.
”Well, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet one day, ”what is your opinion _now_ ofthis sad business of Jane's? For my part, I am determined never to speakof it again to anybody. I told my sister Philips so the other day. But Icannot find out that Jane saw any thing of him in London. Well, he is avery undeserving young man--and I do not suppose there is the leastchance in the world of her ever getting him now. There is no talk of hiscoming to Netherfield again in the summer; and I have enquired of everybody too, who is likely to know.”
”I do not believe that he will ever live at Netherfield any more.”
”Oh, well! it is just as he chooses. Nobody wants him to come. Though Ishall always say that he used my daughter extremely ill; and if I washer, I would not have put up with it. Well, my comfort is, I am sureJane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what hehas done.”
But as Elizabeth could not receive comfort from any such expectation,she made no answer.
”Well, Lizzy,” continued her mother soon afterwards, ”and so theCollinses live very comfortable, do they? Well, well, I only hope itwill last. And what sort of table do they keep? Charlotte is anexcellent manager, I dare say. If she is half as sharp as her mother,she is saving enough. There is nothing extravagant in _their_housekeeping, I dare say.”
”No, nothing at all.”
”A great deal of good management, depend upon it. Yes, yes. _They_ willtake care not to outrun their income. _They_ will never be distressedfor money. Well, much good may it do them! And so, I suppose, they oftentalk of having Longbourn when your father is dead. They look upon itquite as their own, I dare say, whenever that happens.”
”It was a subject which they could not mention before me.”
”No. It would have been strange if they had. But I make no doubt, theyoften talk of it between themselves. Well, if they can be easy with anestate that is not lawfully their own, so much the better. _I_ should beashamed of having one that was only entailed on me.”