Books: Pride and Prejudice

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Mr. Darcy looked a little ashamed of his aunt's ill-breeding, and
made no answer.

When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Elizabeth
of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to
the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine
listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to her other
nephew; till the latter walked away from her, and making with
his usual deliberation towards the pianoforte stationed himself
so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance.
Elizabeth saw what he was doing, and at the first convenient
pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said:

"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state
to hear me? I will not be alarmed though your sister DOES play
so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to
be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at
every attempt to intimidate me."

"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you
could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming
you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long
enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally
professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

Elizabeth laughed heartily at this picture of herself, and said to
Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty
notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am
particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so able to expose
my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to
pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy,
it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my
disadvantage in Hertfordshire--and, give me leave to say, very
impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such
things may come out as will shock your relations to hear."

"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly.

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried
Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves
among strangers."

"You shall hear then--but prepare yourself for something very
dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire,
you must know, was at a ball--and at this ball, what do you
think he did? He danced only four dances, though gentlemen
were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one
young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy,
you cannot deny the fact."

"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the
assembly beyond my own party."

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room. Well,
Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your
orders."

"Perhaps," said Darcy, "I should have judged better, had I
sought an introduction; but I am ill-qualified to recommend
myself to strangers."

Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Elizabeth,
still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a
man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is
ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"

"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, "without
applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the
trouble."

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said
Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before.
I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested
in their concerns, as I often see done."

"My fingers," said Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument
in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They
have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the
same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my
own fault--because I will not take the trouble of practising.
It is not that I do not believe MY fingers as capable as any
other woman's of superior execution."

Darcy smiled and said, "You are perfectly right. You have
employed your time much better. No one admitted to the
privilege of hearing you can think anything wanting. We neither
of us perform to strangers."

Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to
know what they were talking of. Elizabeth immediately began
playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening
for a few minutes, said to Darcy:

"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss if she practised more,
and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a
very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to
Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her
health allowed her to learn."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy to see how cordially he assented to
his cousin's praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other
could she discern any symptom of love; and from the whole of
his behaviour to Miss de Bourgh she derived this comfort for
Miss Bingley, that he might have been just as likely to marry
HER, had she been his relation.

Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Elizabeth's performance,
mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste.
Elizabeth received them with all the forbearance of civility,
and, at the request of the gentlemen, remained at the instrument
till her ladyship's carriage was ready to take them all home.

Chapter 32

Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to
Jane while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into
the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the
certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she
thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that
apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she
might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened,
and, to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only,
entered the room.

He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised
for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all
the ladies were to be within.

They then sat down, and when her inquiries after Rosings were
made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was
absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in
this emergence recollecting WHEN she had seen him last in
Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say
on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed:

"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November,
Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr.
Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right,
he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope,
when you left London?"

"Perfectly so, I thank you."

She found that she was to receive no other answer, and, after a
short pause added:

"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of
ever returning to Netherfield again?"

"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may
spend very little of his time there in the future. He has many
friends, and is at a time of life when friends and engagements are
continually increasing."

"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for
the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for
then we might possibly get a settled family there. But, perhaps,
Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience
of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to
keep it or quit it on the same principle."

"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up
as soon as any eligible purchase offers."

Elizabeth made no answer. She was afraid of talking longer of
his friend; and, having nothing else to say, was now determined
to leave the trouble of finding a subject to him.

He took the hint, and soon began with, "This seems a very
comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to
it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

"I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed
her kindness on a more grateful object."

"Mr. Collins appears to be very fortunate in his choice of a wife."

"Yes, indeed, his friends may well rejoice in his having met with
one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted
him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an
excellent understanding--though I am not certain that I consider
her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She
seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light it is
certainly a very good match for her."

"It must be very agreeable for her to be settled within so easy a
distance of her own family and friends."

"An easy distance, do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."

"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a
day's journey. Yes, I call it a VERY easy distance."

I should never have considered the distance as one of the
ADVANTAGES of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never
have said Mrs. Collins was settled NEAR her family."

"It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire.
Anything beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I
suppose, would appear far."

As he spoke there was a sort of smile which Elizabeth fancied
she understood; he must be supposing her to be thinking of Jane
and Netherfield, and she blushed as she answered:

"I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near
her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on
many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the
expenses of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil.
But that is not the case HERE. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a
comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent
journeys--and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself
NEAR her family under less than HALF the present distance."

Mr. Darcy drew his chair a little towards her, and said, "YOU
cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment.
YOU cannot have been always at Longbourn."

Elizabeth looked surprised. The gentleman experienced some
change of feeling; he drew back his chair, took a newspaper
from the table, and glancing over it, said, in a colder voice:

"Are you pleased with Kent?"

A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either
side calm and concise--and soon put an end to by the entrance
of Charlotte and her sister, just returned from her walk. The
tete-a-tete surprised them. Mr. Darcy related the mistake which
had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a
few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.

"What can be the meaning of this?" said Charlotte, as soon as he
was gone. "My dear, Eliza, he must be in love with you, or he
would never have called us in this familiar way."

But when Elizabeth told of his silence; it did not seem very
likely, even to Charlotte's wishes, to be the case; and after
various conjectures, they could at last only suppose his visit to
proceed from the difficulty of finding anything to do, which was
the more probable from the time of year. All field sports were
over. Within doors there was Lady Catherine, books, and a
billiard-table, but gentlemen cannot always be within doors; and
in the nearness of the Parsonage, or the pleasantness of the walk
to it, or of the people who lived in it, the two cousins found a
temptation from this period of walking thither almost every day.
They called at various times of the morning, sometimes
separately, sometimes together, and now and then accompanied
by their aunt. It was plain to them all that Colonel Fitzwilliam
came because he had pleasure in their society, a persuasion
which of course recommended him still more; and Elizabeth was
reminded by her own satisfaction in being with him, as well as by
his evident admiration of her, of her former favourite George
Wickham; and though, in comparing them, she saw there was
less captivating softness in Colonel Fitzwilliam's manners, she
believed he might have the best informed mind.

But why Mr. Darcy came so often to the Parsonage, it was more
difficult to understand. It could not be for society, as he
frequently sat there ten minutes together without opening his
lips; and when he did speak, it seemed the effect of necessity
rather than of choice--a sacrifice to propriety, not a pleasure
to himself. He seldom appeared really animated. Mrs. Collins
knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam's occasionally
laughing at his stupidity, proved that he was generally different,
which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as
she would liked to have believed this change the effect of love,
and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself
seriously to work to find it out. She watched him whenever they
were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without
much success. He certainly looked at her friend a great deal,
but the expression of that look was disputable. It was an
earnest, steadfast gaze, but she often doubted whether there
were much admiration in it, and sometimes it seemed nothing but
absence of mind.

She had once or twice suggested to Elizabeth the possibility of
his being partial to her, but Elizabeth always laughed at the idea;
and Mrs. Collins did not think it right to press the subject, from
the danger of raising expectations which might only end in
disappointment; for in her opinion it admitted not of a doubt,
that all her friend's dislike would vanish, if she could suppose
him to be in her power.

In her kind schemes for Elizabeth, she sometimes planned her
marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam. He was beyond comparison the
most pleasant man; he certainly admired her, and his situation in
life was most eligible; but, to counterbalance these advantages,
Mr. Darcy had considerable patronage in the church, and his
cousin could have none at all.

Chapter 33

More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park,
unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of
the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought,
and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him
at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur
a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even a
third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance,
for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries
and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it
necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great
deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of
listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third
rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions--about
her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and
her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in
speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house,
he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she
would be staying THERE too. His words seemed to imply it. Could
he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he
meant anything, he must mean and allusion to what might arise in
that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad
to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the Parsonage.

She was engaged one day as she walked, in perusing Jane's last
letter, and dwelling on some passages which proved that Jane
had not written in spirits, when, instead of being again surprised
by Mr. Darcy, she saw on looking up that Colonel Fitzwilliam
was meeting her. Putting away the letter immediately and
forcing a smile, she said:

"I did not know before that you ever walked this way."

"I have been making the tour of the park," he replied, "as I
generally do every year, and intend to close it with a call at the
Parsonage. Are you going much farther?"

"No, I should have turned in a moment."

And accordingly she did turn, and they walked towards the
Parsonage together.

"Do you certainly leave Kent on Saturday?" said she.

"Yes--if Darcy does not put it off again. But I am at his
disposal. He arranges the business just as he pleases."

"And if not able to please himself in the arrangement, he has
at least pleasure in the great power of choice. I do not know
anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he
likes than Mr. Darcy."

"He likes to have his own way very well," replied Colonel
Fitzwilliam. "But so we all do. It is only that he has better
means of having it than many others, because he is rich, and
many others are poor. I speak feelingly. A younger son, you
know, must be inured to self-denial and dependence."

"In my opinion, the younger son of an earl can know very
little of either. Now seriously, what have you ever known of
self-denial and dependence? When have you been prevented by
want of money from going wherever you chose, or procuring
anything you had a fancy for?"

"These are home questions--and perhaps I cannot say that I
have experienced many hardships of that nature. But in matters
of greater weight, I may suffer from want of money. Younger
sons cannot marry where they like."

"Unless where they like women of fortune, which I think they
very often do."

Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are too
many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some
attention to money."

"Is this," thought Elizabeth, "meant for me?" and she coloured
at the idea; but, recovering herself, said in a lively tone, "And
pray, what is the usual price of an earl's younger son? Unless
the elder brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask
above fifty thousand pounds."

He answered her in the same style, and the subject dropped. To
interrupt a silence which might make him fancy her affected with
what had passed, she soon afterwards said:

"I imagine your cousin brought you down with him chiefly for
the sake of having someone at his disposal. I wonder he does
not marry, to secure a lasting convenience of that kind. But,
perhaps, his sister does as well for the present, and, as she is
under his sole care, he may do what he likes with her."

"No," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "that is an advantage which he
must divide with me. I am joined with him in the guardianship
of Miss Darcy."

"Are you indeed? And pray what sort of guardians do you
make? Does your charge give you much trouble? Young ladies
of her age are sometimes a little difficult to manage, and if she
has the true Darcy spirit, she may like to have her own way."

As she spoke she observed him looking at her earnestly; and
the manner in which he immediately asked her why she supposed
Miss Darcy likely to give them any uneasiness, convinced her
that she had somehow or other got pretty near the truth. She
directly replied:

"You need not be frightened. I never heard any harm of her; and
I dare say she is one of the most tractable creatures in the world.
She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance,
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that
you know them."

"I know them a little. Their brother is a pleasant gentlemanlike
man--he is a great friend of Darcy's."

"Oh! yes," said Elizabeth drily; "Mr. Darcy is uncommonly kind
to Mr. Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him."

"Care of him! Yes, I really believe Darcy DOES take care of
him in those points where he most wants care. From something
that he told me in our journey hither, I have reason to think
Bingley very much indebted to him. But I ought to beg his
pardon, for I have no right to suppose that Bingley was the
person meant. It was all conjecture."

"What is it you mean?"

"It is a circumstance which Darcy could not wish to be generally
known, because if it were to get round to the lady's family, it
would be an unpleasant thing."

"You may depend upon my not mentioning it."

"And remember that I have not much reason for supposing it
to be Bingley. What he told me was merely this: that he
congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from
the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without
mentioning names or any other particulars, and I only suspected
it to be Bingley from believing him the kind of young man to get
into a scrape of that sort, and from knowing them to have been
together the whole of last summer."

"Did Mr. Darcy give you reasons for this interference?"

"I understood that there were some very strong objections
against the lady."

"And what arts did he use to separate them?"

"He did not talk to me of his own arts," said Fitzwilliam, smiling.
"He only told me what I have now told you."

Elizabeth made no answer, and walked on, her heart swelling
with indignation. After watching her a little, Fitzwilliam asked
her why she was so thoughtful.

"I am thinking of what you have been telling me," said she.
"Your cousin's conduct does not suit my feelings. Why was he
to be the judge?"

"You are rather disposed to call his interference officious?"

"I do not see what right Mr. Darcy had to decide on the
propriety of his friend's inclination, or why, upon his own
judgement alone, he was to determine and direct in what manner
his friend was to be happy. But," she continued, recollecting
herself, "as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to
condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much
affection in the case."

"That is not an unnatural surmise," said Fitzwilliam, "but it is a
lessening of the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly."

This was spoken jestingly; but it appeared to her so just a picture
of Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer,
and therefore, abruptly changing the conversation talked on
indifferent matters until they reached the Parsonage. There, shut
into her own room, as soon as their visitor left them, she could
think without interruption of all that she had heard. It was not
to be supposed that any other people could be meant than those
with whom she was connected. There could not exist in the
world TWO men over whom Mr. Darcy could have such boundless
influence. That he had been concerned in the measures taken to
separate Bingley and Jane she had never doubted; but she had
always attributed to Miss Bingley the principal design and
arrangement of them. If his own vanity, however, did not mislead
him, HE was the cause, his pride and caprice were the cause, of
all that Jane had suffered, and still continued to suffer. He
had ruined for a while every hope of happiness for the most
affectionate, generous heart in the world; and no one could say
how lasting an evil he might have inflicted.

"There were some very strong objections against the lady,"
were Colonel Fitzwilliam's words; and those strong objections
probably were, her having one uncle who was a country attorney,
and another who was in business in London.

"To Jane herself," she exclaimed, "there could be no possibility
of objection; all loveliness and goodness as she is!--her
understanding excellent, her mind improved, and her manners
captivating. Neither could anything be urged against my father,
who, though with some peculiarities, has abilities Mr. Darcy
himself need not disdain, and respectability which he will
probably never each." When she thought of her mother, her
confidence gave way a little; but she would not allow that any
objections THERE had material weight with Mr. Darcy, whose
pride, she was convinced, would receive a deeper wound from
the want of importance in his friend's connections, than from
their want of sense; and she was quite decided, at last, that he
had been partly governed by this worst kind of pride, and partly
by the wish of retaining Mr. Bingley for his sister.

The agitation and tears which the subject occasioned, brought on
a headache; and it grew so much worse towards the evening,
that, added to her unwillingness to see Mr. Darcy, it determined
her not to attend her cousins to Rosings, where they were
engaged to drink tea. Mrs. Collins, seeing that she was really
unwell, did not press her to go and as much as possible
prevented her husband from pressing her; but Mr. Collins could
not conceal his apprehension of Lady Catherine's being rather
displeased by her staying at home.

Chapter 34

When they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate
herself as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her
employment the examination of all the letters which Jane had
written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no actual
complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any
communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost
every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which
had been used to characterise her style, and which, proceeding
from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself and kindly
disposed towards everyone, had been scarcely ever clouded.
Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness,
with an attention which it had hardly received on the first
perusal. Mr. Darcy's shameful boast of what misery he had been
able to inflict, gave her a keener sense of her sister's
sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his visit
to Rosings was to end on the day after the next--and, a still
greater, that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with
Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her
spirits, by all that affection could do.

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