“It was greatly my wish that he should do so,” he added, “as soon as his marriage was fixed on.And I think you will agree with me, in considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable,both on his account and my niece’s. It is Mr. Wickham’s intention to go into the Regulars; and,among his former friends, there are still some who are able and willing to assist him in the army.He has the promise of an ensigncy in General----’s regiment, now quartered in the north.It is an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom. He promises fairly;and I hope among different people, where they may each have a character to preserve,they will both be more prudent. I have written to Colonel Forster,to inform him of our present arrangements,and to request that he will satisfy the various creditors of Mr.Wickham in and near Brighton with assurances of speedy payment, for which I have pledged myself.And will you give yourself the trouble of carrying similar assurances to his creditors in Meryton,of whom I shall subjoin a list, according to his information?He has given in all his debts; I hope at least he has not deceived us.Haggerston has our directions, and all will be completed in a week.They will then join his regiment, unless they are first invited to Longbourn;and I understand from Mrs. Gardiner that my niece is very desirous of seeing you all before she leaves the south.She is well, and begs to be dutifully remembered to you and her mother.--Yours, etc.
“E. GARDINER.”
Mr. Bennet and his daughters saw all the advantages of Wickham’s removal from the ----shire,as clearly as Mr. Gardiner could do. But Mrs. Bennet was not so well pleased with it.Lydia’s being settled in the north, just when she had expected most pleasure and pride in her company,for she had by no means given up her plan of their residing in Hertfordshire,was a severe disappointment; and, besides,it was such a pity that Lydia should be taken from a regiment where she was acquainted with everybody, and had so many favourites.
“She is so fond of Mrs. Forster,” said she, “it will be quite shocking to send her away!And there are several of the young men, too, that she likes very much.The officers may not be so pleasant in General----’s regiment.”
His daughter’s request, for such it might be considered, of being admitted into her family again,before she set off for the north, received at first an absolute negative. But Jane and Elizabeth,who agreed in wishing, for the sake of their sister’s feelings and consequence,that she should be noticed on her marriage by her parents, urged him so earnestly,yet so rationally and so mildly, to receive her and her husband at Longbourn,as soon as they were married, that he was prevailed on to think as they thought,and act as they wished. And their mother had the satisfaction of knowing,that she should be able to show her married daughter in the neighbourhood,before she was banished to the north. When Mr. Bennet wrote again to his brother, therefore,he sent his permission for them to come; and it was settled, that,as soon as the ceremony was over, they should proceed to Longbourn. Elizabeth was surprised,however, that Wickham should consent to such a scheme; and,had she consulted only her own inclination,any meeting with him would have been the last object of her wishes.
[Illustration:
“With an affectionate smile”
[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
CHAPTER LI.
[Illustration]
Their sister’s wedding-day arrived; and Jane and Elizabeth felt for her probably more than she felt for herself.The carriage was sent to meet them at----, and they were to return in it by dinnertime.Their arrival was dreaded by the elder Miss Bennets--and Jane more especially,who gave Lydia the feelings which would have attended herself, had _she_ been the culprit,and was wretched in the thought of what her sister must endure.
They came. The family were assembled in the breakfast-room to receive them.Smiles decked the face of Mrs. Bennet, as the carriage drove up to the door;her husband looked impenetrably grave; her daughters, alarmed, anxious, uneasy.
Lydia’s voice was heard in the vestibule; the door was thrown open, and she ran into the room.Her mother stepped forwards, embraced her, and welcomed her with rapture;gave her hand with an affectionate smile to Wickham, who followed his lady;and wished them both joy, with an alacrity which showed no doubt of their happiness.
Their reception from Mr. Bennet, to whom they then turned, was not quite so cordial.His countenance rather gained in austerity; and he scarcely opened his lips.The easy assurance of the young couple, indeed, was enough to provoke him.
Elizabeth was disgusted, and even Miss Bennet was shocked. Lydia was Lydia still; untamed,unabashed, wild, noisy, and fearless. She turned from sister to sister,demanding their congratulations; and when at length they all sat down,looked eagerly round the room, took notice of some little alteration in it, and observed,with a laugh, that it was a great while since she had been there.
Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself; but his manners were always so pleasing, that,had his character and his marriage been exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address,while he claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all.Elizabeth had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat down,resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of an impudent man._She_ blushed, and Jane blushed; but the cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of colour.
There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither of them talk fast enough;and Wickham, who happened to sit near Elizabeth,began inquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood, with a good-humoured ease,which she felt very unable to equal in her replies.They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the world.Nothing of the past was recollected with pain;and Lydia led voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for the world.
“Only think of its being three months,” she cried, “since I went away: it seems but a fortnight,I declare; and yet there have been things enough happened in the time. Good gracious!when I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being married till I came back again!though I thought it would be very good fun if I was.”
Her father lifted up his eyes, Jane was distressed, Elizabeth looked expressively at Lydia; but she,who never heard nor saw anything of which she chose to be insensible, gaily continued,--
“Oh, mamma, do the people hereabouts know I am married to-day?I was afraid they might not; and we overtook William Goulding in his curricle,so I was determined he should know it, and so I let down the side glass next to him,and took off my glove and let my hand just rest upon the window frame,so that he might see the ring, and then I bowed and smiled like anything.”
Elizabeth could bear it no longer. She got up and ran out of the room; and returned no more,till she heard them passing through the hall to the dining-parlour.She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with anxious parade,walk up to her mother’s right hand, and hear her say to her eldest sister,--
“Ah, Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a married woman.”
It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment from which she had been so wholly free at first.Her ease and good spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Philips, the Lucases,and all their other neighbours, and to hear herself called “Mrs. Wickham” by each of them;and in the meantime she went after dinner to show her ring and boast of being married to Mrs. Hill and the two housemaids.
“Well, mamma,” said she, when they were all returned to the breakfast-room, “and what do you think of my husband?Is not he a charming man?I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope they may have half my good luck.They must all go to Brighton. That is the place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!”
“Very true; and if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia,I don’t at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?”
“Oh, Lord!yes; there is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things. You and papa, and my sisters,must come down and see us. We shall be at Newcastle all the winter,and I dare say there will be some balls, and I will take care to get good partners for them all.”
“I should like it beyond anything!” said her mother.
“And then when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters behind you;and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the winter is over.”
“I thank you for my share of the favour,” said Elizabeth;“but I do not particularly like your way of getting husbands.”
Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr.Wickham had received his commission before he left London,and he was to join his regiment at the end of a fortnight.
No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short;and she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter,and having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to all;to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did think than such as did not.
Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to find it;not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her present observation to be satisfied,from the reason of things, that their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather than by his;and she would have wondered why, without violently caring for her,he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances;and if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity of having a companion.
Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every occasion;no one was to be put in competition with him. He did everything best in the world;and she was sure he would kill more birds on the first of September than anybody else in the country.
One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth,--
“Lizzy, I never gave _you_ an account of my wedding, I believe. You were not by, when I told mamma,and the others, all about it. Are not you curious to hear how it was managed?”
“No, really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little said on the subject.”
“La!You are so strange!But I must tell you how it went off. We were married, you know, at St. Clement’s,because Wickham’s lodgings were in that parish.And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven o’clock.My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others were to meet us at the church.
“Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss!I was so afraid, you know, that something would happen to put it off,and then I should have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was dressing,preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a sermon. However,I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham.I longed to know whether he would be married in his blue coat.
“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: I thought it would never be over; for, by the bye,you are to understand that my uncle and aunt were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them.If you’ll believe me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything!To be sure, London was rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open.
“Well, and so, just as the carriage came to the door,my uncle was called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you know,when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well,I was so frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away;and if we were beyond the hour we could not be married all day. But, luckily,he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set out. However,I recollected afterwards, that if he _had_ been prevented going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as well.”
“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.
“Oh, yes!he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But, gracious me!I quite forgot!I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised them so faithfully!What will Wickham say?It was to be such a secret!”
“If it was to be a secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the subject.You may depend upon my seeking no further.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will ask you no questions.”
“Thank you,” said Lydia; “for if you did, I should certainly tell you all, and then Wickham would be so angry.”
On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her power, by running away.
But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible;or at least it was impossible not to try for information. Mr.Darcy had been at her sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people,where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go.Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her brain;but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her,as placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable.She could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper,wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what Lydia had dropped,if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been intended.
“You may readily comprehend,” she added,“what my curiosity must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us, and,comparatively speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such a time.Pray write instantly, and let me understand it--unless it is, for very cogent reasons,to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to think necessary;and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with ignorance.”
“Not that I _shall_, though,” she added to herself, and she finished the letter; “and, my dear aunt,if you do not tell me in an honourable manner,I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it out.”
Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall;Elizabeth was glad of it:--till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.
[Illustration:
“I am sure she did not listen.” ]
CHAPTER LII.
[Illustration]
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as soon as she possibly could.She was no sooner in possession of it, than hurrying into the little copse,where she was least likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches,and prepared to be happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not contain a denial.
/* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Sept. 6_. */
“My dear Niece,
“I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole morning to answering it,as I foresee that a _little_ writing will not comprise what I have to tell you.I must confess myself surprised by your application; I did not expect it from _you_.Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know,that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on _your_ side.If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my impertinence.Your uncle is as much surprised as I am;and nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed him to act as he has done.But if you are really innocent and ignorant, I must be more explicit.On the very day of my coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr.Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all over before I arrived;so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked as _yours_ seems to have been. He came to tell Mr.Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were,and that he had seen and talked with them both--Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once.From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after ourselves,and came to town with the resolution of hunting for them.The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he _had another_ motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was more than _we_ had; and the consciousness of this was another reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street, and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But it was two or three days before he could get from her what he wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in ----Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he easily learnt had never been _his_ design. He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation, he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once. Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything being settled between _them_, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk together. They met again on Sunday, and then _I_ saw him too. It was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character, after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times; but _this_ is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say nothing about it) your uncle would most readily have settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addition to her own settled upon _her_, and his commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in _this_; though I doubt whether _his_ reserve, or _anybody’s_ reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit for _another interest_ in the affair. When all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything. It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house. _He_ was exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I would not tell you how little I was satisfied with _her_ behaviour while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold enough to say before) how much I like him?His behaviour to us has, in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire.His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little more liveliness,and _that_, if he marry _prudently_, his wife may teach him. I thought him very sly;he hardly ever mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive me,if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so far as to exclude me from P.I shall never be quite happy till I have been all round the park.A low phaeton with a nice little pair of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more.The children have been wanting me this half hour.
“Yours, very sincerely,
“M. GARDINER.”
The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits,in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share.The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced, of what Mr.Darcy might have been doing to forward her sister’s match--which she had feared to encourage,as an exertion of goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be just,from the pain of obligation--were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true!He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a research;in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and despise,and where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason with, persuade,and finally bribe the man whom he always most wished to avoid,and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce.He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem.Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.But it was a hope shortly checked by other considerations;and she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient,when required to depend on his affection for her, for a woman who had already refused him,as able to overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham!Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. He had, to be sure, done much.She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason for his interference,which asked no extraordinary stretch of belief.It was reasonable that he should feel he had been wrong; he had liberality,and he had the means of exercising it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement,she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially concerned.It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a return.They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything to him. Oh,how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged,every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him!For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him,--proud that in a cause of compassion and honour he had been able to get the better of himself.She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and again. It was hardly enough;but it pleased her. She was even sensible of some pleasure, though mixed with regret,on finding how steadfastly both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.
She was roused from her seat and her reflections, by someone’s approach; and,before she could strike into another path, she was overtaken by Wickham.
“I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister?” said he, as he joined her.
“You certainly do,” she replied with a smile;“but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.”
“I should be sorry, indeed, if it were. _We_ were always good friends, and now we are better.”
“True. Are the others coming out?”
“I do not know. Mrs. Bennet and Lydia are going in the carriage to Meryton. And so, my dear sister,I find, from our uncle and aunt, that you have actually seen Pemberley.”
She replied in the affirmative.
“I almost envy you the pleasure, and yet I believe it would be too much for me,or else I could take it in my way to Newcastle. And you saw the old housekeeper, I suppose?Poor Reynolds, she was always very fond of me. But of course she did not mention my name to you.”
“Yes, she did.”
“And what did she say?”
“That you were gone into the army, and she was afraid had--not turned out well.At such a distance as _that_, you know, things are strangely misrepresented.”
“Certainly,” he replied, biting his lips. Elizabeth hoped she had silenced him; but he soon afterwards said,--
“I was surprised to see Darcy in town last month. We passed each other several times. I wonder what he can be doing there.”
“Perhaps preparing for his marriage with Miss de Bourgh,” said Elizabeth.“It must be something particular to take him there at this time of year.”