CHAPTER VII.
Two days after Mr. Bennet's return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walkingtogether in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeepercoming towards them, and, concluding that she came to call them to theirmother, went forward to meet her; but, instead of the expected summons,when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, ”I beg your pardon,madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got somegood news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”
”What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”
”Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, ”don't you knowthere is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been herethis half hour, and master has had a letter.”
Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. Theyran through the vestibule into the breakfast room; from thence to thelibrary;--their father was in neither; and they were on the point ofseeking him up stairs with their mother, when they were met by thebutler, who said,
”If you are looking for my master, ma'am, he is walking towards thelittle copse.”
Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once more,and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberatelypursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock.
Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of running asElizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath,came up with him, and eagerly cried out,
”Oh, Papa, what news? what news? have you heard from my uncle?”
”Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.”
”Well, and what news does it bring? good or bad?”
”What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter fromhis pocket; ”but perhaps you would like to read it.”
Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.
”Read it aloud,” said their father, ”for I hardly know myself what it isabout.”
”Gracechurch-street, Monday,
August 2.
”MY DEAR BROTHER,
”At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such as, upon the whole, I hope will give you satisfaction. Soon after you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what part of London they were. The particulars, I reserve till we meet. It is enough to know they are discovered, I have seen them both----”
”Then it is, as I always hoped,” cried Jane; ”they are married!”
Elizabeth read on; ”I have seen them both. They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among your children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and, moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions, which, considering every thing, I had no hesitation in complying with, as far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham's circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to say, there will be some little money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune. If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act in your name, throughout the whole of this business, I will immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper settlement. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming to town again; therefore, stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on my diligence and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can, and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best, that my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as any thing more is determined on. Your's, &c.
”EDW. GARDINER.”
”Is it possible!” cried Elizabeth, when she had finished. ”Can it bepossible that he will marry her?”
”Wickham is not so undeserving, then, as we have thought him;” said hersister. ”My dear father, I congratulate you.”
”And have you answered the letter?” said Elizabeth.
”No; but it must be done soon.”
Most earnestly did she then intreat him to lose no more time before hewrote.
”Oh! my dear father,” she cried, ”come back, and write immediately.Consider how important every moment is, in such a case.”
”Let me write for you,” said Jane, ”if you dislike the troubleyourself.”
”I dislike it very much,” he replied; ”but it must be done.”
And so saying, he turned back with them, and walked towards the house.
”And may I ask?” said Elizabeth, ”but the terms, I suppose, must becomplied with.”
”Complied with! I am only ashamed of his asking so little.”
”And they _must_ marry! Yet he is _such_ a man!”
”Yes, yes, they must marry. There is nothing else to be done. But thereare two things that I want very much to know:--one is, how much moneyyour uncle has laid down, to bring it about; and the other, how I amever to pay him.”
”Money! my uncle!” cried Jane, ”what do you mean, Sir?”
”I mean, that no man in his senses, would marry Lydia on so slight atemptation as one hundred a-year during my life, and fifty after I amgone.”
”That is very true,” said Elizabeth; ”though it had not occurred to mebefore. His debts to be discharged, and something still to remain! Oh!it must be my uncle's doings! Generous, good man, I am afraid he hasdistressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.”
”No,” said her father, ”Wickham's a fool, if he takes her with afarthing less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to think soill of him, in the very beginning of our relationship.”
”Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is half such a sum to berepaid?”
Mr. Bennet made no answer, and each of them, deep in thought, continuedsilent till they reached the house. Their father then went to thelibrary to write, and the girls walked into the breakfast-room.
”And they are really to be married!” cried Elizabeth, as soon as theywere by themselves. ”How strange this is! And for _this_ we are to bethankful. That they should marry, small as is their chance of happiness,and wretched as is his character, we are forced to rejoice! Oh, Lydia!”
”I comfort myself with thinking,” replied Jane, ”that he certainly wouldnot marry Lydia, if he had not a real regard for her. Though our kinduncle has done something towards clearing him, I cannot believe that tenthousand pounds, or any thing like it, has been advanced. He haschildren of his own, and may have more. How could he spare half tenthousand pounds?”
”If we are ever able to learn what Wickham's debts have been,” saidElizabeth, ”and how much is settled on his side on our sister, we shallexactly know what Mr. Gardiner has done for them, because Wickham hasnot sixpence of his own. The kindness of my uncle and aunt can never berequited. Their taking her home, and affording her their personalprotection and countenance, is such a sacrifice to her advantage, asyears of gratitude cannot enough acknowledge. By this time she isactually with them! If such goodness does not make her miserable now,she will never deserve to be happy! What a meeting for her, when shefirst sees my aunt!”
”We must endeavour to forget all that has passed on either side,” saidJane: ”I hope and trust they will yet be happy. His consenting to marryher is a proof, I will believe, that he is come to a right way ofthinking. Their mutual affection will steady them; and I flatter myselfthey will settle so quietly, and live in so rational a manner, as may intime make their past imprudence forgotten.”
”Their conduct has been such,” replied Elizabeth, ”as neither you, norI, nor any body, can ever forget. It is useless to talk of it.”
It now occurred to the girls that their mother was in all likelihoodperfectly ignorant of what had happened. They went to the library,therefore, and asked their father, whether he would not wish them tomake it known to her. He was writing, and, without raising his head,coolly replied,
”Just as you please.”
”May we take my uncle's letter to read to her?”
”Take whatever you like, and get away.”
Elizabeth took the letter from his writing table, and they went upstairs together. Mary and Kitty were both with Mrs. Bennet: onecommunication would, therefore, do for all. After a slight preparationfor good news, the letter was read aloud. Mrs. Bennet could hardlycontain herself. As soon as Jane had read Mr. Gardiner's hope of Lydia'sbeing soon married, her joy burst forth, and every following sentenceadded to its exuberance. She was now in an irritation as violent fromdelight, as she had ever been fidgetty from alarm and vexation. To knowthat her daughter would be married was enough. She was disturbed by nofear for her felicity, nor humbled by any remembrance of her misconduct.
”My dear, dear Lydia!” she cried: ”This is delightful indeed!--She willbe married!--I shall see her again!--She will be married at sixteen!--Mygood, kind brother!--I knew how it would be--I knew he would manageevery thing. How I long to see her! and to see dear Wickham too! But theclothes, the wedding clothes! I will write to my sister Gardiner aboutthem directly. Lizzy, my dear, run down to your father, and ask him howmuch he will give her. Stay, stay, I will go myself. Ring the bell,Kitty, for Hill. I will put on my things in a moment. My dear, dearLydia!--How merry we shall be together when we meet!”
Her eldest daughter endeavoured to give some relief to the violence ofthese transports, by leading her thoughts to the obligations which Mr.Gardiner's behaviour laid them all under.
”For we must attribute this happy conclusion,” she added, ”in a greatmeasure, to his kindness. We are persuaded that he has pledged himselfto assist Mr. Wickham with money.”
”Well,” cried her mother, ”it is all very right; who should do it buther own uncle? If he had not had a family of his own, I and my childrenmust have had all his money you know, and it is the first time we haveever had any thing from him, except a few presents. Well! I am so happy.In a short time, I shall have a daughter married. Mrs. Wickham! How wellit sounds. And she was only sixteen last June. My dear Jane, I am insuch a flutter, that I am sure I can't write; so I will dictate, and youwrite for me. We will settle with your father about the moneyafterwards; but the things should be ordered immediately.”
She was then proceeding to all the particulars of calico, muslin, andcambric, and would shortly have dictated some very plentiful orders, hadnot Jane, though with some difficulty, persuaded her to wait, till herfather was at leisure to be consulted. One day's delay she observed,would be of small importance; and her mother was too happy, to be quiteso obstinate as usual. Other schemes too came into her head.
”I will go to Meryton,” said she, ”as soon as I am dressed, and tell thegood, good news to my sister Philips. And as I come back, I can call onLady Lucas and Mrs. Long. Kitty, run down and order the carriage. Anairing would do me a great deal of good, I am sure. Girls, can I do anything for you in Meryton? Oh! here comes Hill. My dear Hill, have youheard the good news? Miss Lydia is going to be married; and you shallall have a bowl of punch, to make merry at her wedding.”
Mrs. Hill began instantly to express her joy. Elizabeth received hercongratulations amongst the rest, and then, sick of this folly, tookrefuge in her own room, that she might think with freedom.
Poor Lydia's situation must, at best, be bad enough; but that it was noworse, she had need to be thankful. She felt it so; and though, inlooking forward, neither rational happiness nor worldly prosperity,could be justly expected for her sister; in looking back to what theyhad feared, only two hours ago, she felt all the advantages of what theyhad gained.