Pride and Prejudice

VII.

[Illustration]

The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw
Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome; nor could she for many
hours learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it
appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings
for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr.
Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of
their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine;
till she recollected that his being the intimate friend of Bingley,
and her being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the
expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply
the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her
sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at
Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for through their communication with the
Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had
only set that down as almost certain and immediate which she had
looked forward to as possible at some future time.

In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help
feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting
in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to
prevent the marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an
application to her nephew; and how he might take a similar
representation of the evils attached to a connection with her she dared
not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his
aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose
that he thought much higher of her Ladyship than she could do; and it
was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with one
whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would
address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would
probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak
and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.

If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often
seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might
settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity
unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady
Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to
Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.

“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his
friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand
it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his
constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might
have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him
at all.”

The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had
been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same
kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and
Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.

The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her
father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.

“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.”

She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell
her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner
connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might
be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the
consequent explanations.

She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He
then said,--

“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me
exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its
contents. I did not know before that I had two daughters on the brink
of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”

The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous
conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt;
and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained
himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to
herself, when her father continued,--

“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters
as these; but I think I may defy even your sagacity to discover the
name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”

“From Mr. Collins! and what can he have to say?”

“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with
congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of
which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping
Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says
on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows:--‘Having thus
offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on
this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another,
of which we have been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter
Elizabeth, it is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after
her eldest sister has resigned it; and the chosen partner of her fate
may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious personages
in this land.’ Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by this?
‘This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar way, with everything the
heart of mortal can most desire,--splendid property, noble kindred, and
extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of all these temptations, let me warn
my cousin Elizabeth, and yourself, of what evils you may incur by a
precipitate closure with this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course,
you will be inclined to take immediate advantage of.’ Have you any idea,
Lizzy, who this gentleman is? But now it comes out. ‘My motive for
cautioning you is as follows:--We have reason to imagine that his aunt,
Lady Catherine de Bourgh, does not look on the match with a friendly
eye.’ Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy, I think I have
surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have pitched on any man, within
the circle of our acquaintance, whose name would have given the lie more
effectually to what they related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any
woman but to see a blemish, and who probably never looked at you in
his life! It is admirable!”

Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry, but could only force
one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit been directed in a manner so
little agreeable to her.

“Are you not diverted?”

“Oh, yes. Pray read on.”

“‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage to her Ladyship last
night, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she
felt on the occasion; when it became apparent, that, on the score of
some family objections on the part of my cousin, she would never give
her consent to what she termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my
duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she
and her noble admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run
hastily into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr.
Collins, moreover, adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin Lydia’s sad
business has been so well hushed up, and am only concerned that their
living together before the marriage took place should be so generally
known. I must not, however, neglect the duties of my station, or refrain
from declaring my amazement, at hearing that you received the young
couple into your house as soon as they were married. It was an
encouragement of vice; and had I been the rector of Longbourn, I should
very strenuously have opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as
a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their
names to be mentioned in your hearing.’ That is his notion of
Christian forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear
Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch. But,
Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going to be
missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an idle report. For
what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them
in our turn?”

“Oh,” cried Elizabeth, “I am exceedingly diverted. But it is so
strange!”

“Yes, that is what makes it amusing. Had they fixed on any other man
it would have been nothing; but his perfect indifference and your
pointed dislike make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate
writing, I would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any
consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help giving
him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the impudence and
hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what said Lady Catherine
about this report? Did she call to refuse her consent?”

To this question his daughter replied only with a laugh; and as it had
been asked without the least suspicion, she was not distressed by his
repeating it. Elizabeth had never been more at a loss to make her
feelings appear what they were not. It was necessary to laugh when she
would rather have cried. Her father had most cruelly mortified her by
what he said of Mr. Darcy’s indifference; and she could do nothing but
wonder at such a want of penetration, or fear that, perhaps, instead of
his seeing too little, she might have fancied too much.

[Illustration:

“The efforts of his aunt”

[Copyright 1894 by George Allen.]]