CHAPTER XVIII.
The first week of their return was soon gone. The second began. It wasthe last of the regiment's stay in Meryton, and all the young ladies inthe neighbourhood were drooping apace. The dejection was almostuniversal. The elder Miss Bennets alone were still able to eat, drink,and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments. Veryfrequently were they reproached for this insensibility by Kitty andLydia, whose own misery was extreme, and who could not comprehend suchhard-heartedness in any of the family.
”Good Heaven! What is to become of us! What are we to do!” would theyoften exclaim in the bitterness of woe. ”How can you be smiling so,Lizzy?”
Their affectionate mother shared all their grief; she remembered whatshe had herself endured on a similar occasion, five and twenty yearsago.
”I am sure,” said she, ”I cried for two days together when ColonelMillar's regiment went away. I thought I should have broke my heart.”
”I am sure I shall break _mine_,” said Lydia.
”If one could but go to Brighton!” observed Mrs. Bennet.
”Oh, yes!--if one could but go to Brighton! But papa is sodisagreeable.”
”A little sea-bathing would set me up for ever.”
”And my aunt Philips is sure it would do _me_ a great deal of good,”added Kitty.
Such were the kind of lamentations resounding perpetually throughLongbourn-house. Elizabeth tried to be diverted by them; but all senseof pleasure was lost in shame. She felt anew the justice of Mr. Darcy'sobjections; and never had she before been so much disposed to pardon hisinterference in the views of his friend.
But the gloom of Lydia's prospect was shortly cleared away; for shereceived an invitation from Mrs. Forster, the wife of the Colonel of theregiment, to accompany her to Brighton. This invaluable friend was avery young woman, and very lately married. A resemblance in good humourand good spirits had recommended her and Lydia to each other, and out oftheir _three_ months' acquaintance they had been intimate _two_.
The rapture of Lydia on this occasion, her adoration of Mrs. Forster,the delight of Mrs. Bennet, and the mortification of Kitty, are scarcelyto be described. Wholly inattentive to her sister's feelings, Lydia flewabout the house in restless ecstacy, calling for every one'scongratulations, and laughing and talking with more violence than ever;whilst the luckless Kitty continued in the parlour repining at her fatein terms as unreasonable as her accent was peevish.
”I cannot see why Mrs. Forster should not ask _me_ as well as Lydia,”said she, ”though I am _not_ her particular friend. I have just as muchright to be asked as she has, and more too, for I am two years older.”
In vain did Elizabeth attempt to make her reasonable, and Jane to makeher resigned. As for Elizabeth herself, this invitation was so far fromexciting in her the same feelings as in her mother and Lydia, that sheconsidered it as the death-warrant of all possibility of common sensefor the latter; and detestable as such a step must make her were itknown, she could not help secretly advising her father not to let hergo. She represented to him all the improprieties of Lydia's generalbehaviour, the little advantage she could derive from the friendship ofsuch a woman as Mrs. Forster, and the probability of her being yet moreimprudent with such a companion at Brighton, where the temptations mustbe greater than at home. He heard her attentively, and then said,
”Lydia will never be easy till she has exposed herself in some publicplace or other, and we can never expect her to do it with so littleexpense or inconvenience to her family as under the presentcircumstances.”
”If you were aware,” said Elizabeth, ”of the very great disadvantage tous all, which must arise from the public notice of Lydia's unguarded andimprudent manner; nay, which has already arisen from it, I am sure youwould judge differently in the affair.”
”Already arisen!” repeated Mr. Bennet. ”What, has she frightened awaysome of your lovers? Poor little Lizzy! But do not be cast down. Suchsqueamish youths as cannot bear to be connected with a little absurdity,are not worth a regret. Come, let me see the list of the pitiful fellowswho have been kept aloof by Lydia's folly.”
”Indeed you are mistaken. I have no such injuries to resent. It is notof peculiar, but of general evils, which I am now complaining. Ourimportance, our respectability in the world, must be affected by thewild volatility, the assurance and disdain of all restraint which markLydia's character. Excuse me--for I must speak plainly. If you, my dearfather, will not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirits, andof teaching her that her present pursuits are not to be the business ofher life, she will soon be beyond the reach of amendment. Her characterwill be fixed, and she will, at sixteen, be the most determined flirtthat ever made herself and her family ridiculous. A flirt too, in theworst and meanest degree of flirtation; without any attraction beyondyouth and a tolerable person; and from the ignorance and emptiness ofher mind, wholly unable to ward off any portion of that universalcontempt which her rage for admiration will excite. In this danger Kittyis also comprehended. She will follow wherever Lydia leads. Vain,ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrouled! Oh! my dear father, can yousuppose it possible that they will not be censured and despised whereverthey are known, and that their sisters will not be often involved in thedisgrace?”
Mr. Bennet saw that her whole heart was in the subject; andaffectionately taking her hand, said in reply,
”Do not make yourself uneasy, my love. Wherever you and Jane are known,you must be respected and valued; and you will not appear to lessadvantage for having a couple of--or I may say, three very sillysisters. We shall have no peace at Longbourn if Lydia does not go toBrighton. Let her go then. Colonel Forster is a sensible man, and willkeep her out of any real mischief; and she is luckily too poor to be anobject of prey to any body. At Brighton she will be of less importanceeven as a common flirt than she has been here. The officers will findwomen better worth their notice. Let us hope, therefore, that her beingthere may teach her her own insignificance. At any rate, she cannot growmany degrees worse, without authorizing us to lock her up for the restof her life.”
With this answer Elizabeth was forced to be content; but her own opinioncontinued the same, and she left him disappointed and sorry. It was notin her nature, however, to increase her vexations, by dwelling on them.She was confident of having performed her duty, and to fret overunavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of herdisposition.
Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with herfather, their indignation would hardly have found expression in theirunited volubility. In Lydia's imagination, a visit to Brighton comprisedevery possibility of earthly happiness. She saw with the creative eye offancy, the streets of that gay bathing place covered with officers. Shesaw herself the object of attention, to tens and to scores of them atpresent unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp; its tentsstretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the youngand the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and to complete the view, shesaw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least sixofficers at once.
Had she known that her sister sought to tear her from such prospects andsuch realities as these, what would have been her sensations? They couldhave been understood only by her mother, who might have felt nearly thesame. Lydia's going to Brighton was all that consoled her for themelancholy conviction of her husband's never intending to go therehimself.
But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed; and their rapturescontinued with little intermission to the very day of Lydia's leavinghome.
Elizabeth was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time. Having beenfrequently in company with him since her return, agitation was prettywell over; the agitations of former partiality entirely so. She had evenlearnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her,an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary. In his presentbehaviour to herself, moreover, she had a fresh source of displeasure,for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those attentions whichhad marked the early part of their acquaintance, could only serve, afterwhat had since passed, to provoke her. She lost all concern for him infinding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolousgallantry; and while she steadily repressed it, could not but feel thereproof contained in his believing, that however long, and for whatevercause, his attentions had been withdrawn, her vanity would be gratifiedand her preference secured at any time by their renewal.
On the very last day of the regiment's remaining in Meryton, he dinedwith others of the officers at Longbourn; and so little was Elizabethdisposed to part from him in good humour, that on his making someenquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, shementioned Colonel Fitzwilliam's and Mr. Darcy's having both spent threeweeks at Rosings, and asked him if he were acquainted with the former.
He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but with a moment'srecollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seenhim often; and after observing that he was a very gentleman-like man,asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in his favour.With an air of indifference he soon afterwards added, ”How long did yousay that he was at Rosings?”
”Nearly three weeks.”
”And you saw him frequently?”
”Yes, almost every day.”
”His manners are very different from his cousin's.”
”Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves on acquaintance.”
”Indeed!” cried Wickham with a look which did not escape her. ”And praymay I ask?” but checking himself, he added in a gayer tone, ”Is it inaddress that he improves? Has he deigned to add ought of civility to hisordinary style? for I dare not hope,” he continued in a lower and moreserious tone, ”that he is improved in essentials.”
”Oh, no!” said Elizabeth. ”In essentials, I believe, he is very muchwhat he ever was.”
While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether torejoice over her words, or to distrust their meaning. There was asomething in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensiveand anxious attention, while she added,
”When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean thateither his mind or manners were in a state of improvement, but that fromknowing him better, his disposition was better understood.”
Wickham's alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitatedlook; for a few minutes he was silent; till, shaking off hisembarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest ofaccents,
”You, who so well know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy, will readilycomprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assumeeven the _appearance_ of what is right. His pride, in that direction,may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must deterhim from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by. I only fear thatthe sort of cautiousness, to which you, I imagine, have been alluding,is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion andjudgment he stands much in awe. His fear of her, has always operated, Iknow, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to hiswish of forwarding the match with Miss De Bourgh, which I am certain hehas very much at heart.”
Elizabeth could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by aslight inclination of the head. She saw that he wanted to engage her onthe old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulgehim. The rest of the evening passed with the _appearance_, on his side,of usual cheerfulness, but with no farther attempt to distinguishElizabeth; and they parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly amutual desire of never meeting again.
When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton,from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separationbetween her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was theonly one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs.Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter,and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss theopportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible; advice, which therewas every reason to believe would be attended to; and in the clamoroushappiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieusof her sisters were uttered without being heard.