Beginning, Section II
Jump to new as of February 2, 2001
Elizabeth had to bite her lip to keep herself from bursting out. All evening, Mrs. de Bourgh had been asking questions of her: What is your name? How old are you? Have you any sisters? How many? What are their ages? Are any married? What is your father's occupation? What was your mother's maiden name? And on and on until Elizabeth felt like screaming. Right now, however, Mrs. de Bourgh's attention was fixed on her daughter Anne, who was coughing timidly into her hand.
"Really, Mrs. Jenkinson, you ought to take better care of the girl. That is what I pay you for, is it not?" She said once Anne's fit had subsided. Mrs. Jenkinson apologized, red-faced at allowing her charge to make this blunder.
"Perhaps, ma'am, you had better call the doctor for Miss Anne," Elizabeth said. Mrs. de Bourgh turned around slowly in her chair and fixed her eye upon Elizabeth. Not being satisfied with this slight inspection, she pulled out lorgnettes and looked on her guest closely. Maria Lucas, a fervent disciple of the Romantic poets, felt certain that in an instant, Mrs. de Bourgh would wither Elizabeth to dust and ash. In any case, she felt sure the same would happen to her if ever looked upon by such an exalted personage.
No such thing happened, of course. Elizabeth merely looked back at Mrs. de Bourgh, who put down her lorgnettes and drew herself up superciliously.
"Miss Eliza,"
"Mrs. de Bourgh," replied Elizabeth, trying her best to keep polite.
"Don't interrupt. It is a sign of ill breeding. Why do you laugh?"
"Forgive me, Mrs. de Bourgh," Elizabeth tried to smother a smile, but failed. She had just seen Mr. Collins tsk-tsking just behind his hostess.
"Smiling while one is being spoken to is terrible manners. I must say, your governess was terribly amiss in neglecting to teach that to you."
"That can't possibly be, Mrs. de Bourgh. We had no governess."
"What! No governess, and five daughters in the house! How could you possibly learn accomplishments."
"My father does not agree with paying a woman to fill heads with nonsense. My mother showed us how to play the piano and sketch fairly, but beyond that, we had no instruction in such matters."
"Disgraceful!" was Mrs. de Bourgh's only comment. Mr. Collins, fearing a "verbal confrontation," opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the doorbell rang. They all heard the butler answer and inform the men at the door that Mrs. de Bourgh was in the parlor.
"Thank you, Wadsworth," one of them said. "Come on Fitzwilliam, let's go in." Wadsworth preceded them, however, and Elizabeth got quite a shock when she heard his announcement: "Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy."
Darcy froze in his tracks. What could she possibly be doing here? Could it be that she was actually visiting his aunt of her own free will? He had thought more sense of her.
"Move along, old man!" came a voice from behind. "You're blocking traffic." Colonel Fitzwilliam gave his cousin a hard shove, and Darcy went flying across the room. The first thing he was conscious of as he got up and dusted himself off was Elizabeth's laughter.
"Miss Elizabeth." He said coldly.
"Mr. Darcy." It was obvious that she was trying to hold back a smile. Mrs. de Bourgh looked at them both disapprovingly.
"Fitzwilliam! What are you doing here?" she asked. Darcy turned to face his aunt.
"We were scheduled to come here, Aunt Catherine, you remember."
"I remember nothing of the sort. What impudence, dropping in without previously informing me. Very bad manners."
"Bad manners, bad manners," repeated Mr. Collins. Darcy was reminded of the new phonograph he had seen when last in New York. The needle had gotten stuck on the record, so the fascinated people had heard, "England England England England" until the man had come fix it.
"I am sorry, Aunt Catherine. But there's nothing we can do about it now."
"Wadsworth?"
"Yes'm?"
"Give the Colonel and Mr. Darcy their rooms."
"Yes'm. Follow me, sirs."
My dearest Jane,You will never guess who has joined the party at Rosings. None other than Mr. Darcy! He arrived about a week ago. It appears that Lady Catherine is his aunt. As much as I detest the man, I pity him his relation.
In any case, he has at least livened up the society around here. Our cousin Mr. Collins is as foolish as ever. He follows Mrs. de Bourgh around like a shadow, and neglects Charlotte completely. Since her marriage, Charlotte has taken to avoiding society . She sits in the darkest, gloomiest room in the house, because her husband prefers the best one. Maria Lucas spends her days reading the Romantics with great fervor. When Mrs. de Bourgh commented on her own partiality for some of those same poets, I thought Maria would faint with happiness. She bears every sign of growing up to be just like her father: class-conscious to a besotted degree. As you can see, I am glad for even Mr. Darcy's company in such a world.
Oh course, his visit isn't all bad. He has brought the most delightful man, a Colonel Fitzwilliam, his cousin. The Colonel reminds me in all particulars of Wickham. He is pleasant-tempered, attentive, kind-in short, the exact opposite of his cousin. It is a shame he hasn't Mr. Darcy's money: with his kind heart, he could put it to good use in some charity.
I hope all at home are well. Do write to me as soon as you are able. I long for hearing sense in this Alice's Wonderland.
Your dear sister,
Elizabeth Bennet
Lizzy was bored. She had been at Charlotte's for only a week, and already she felt depressed and annoyed.
"It's Mr. Collins," she thought. "He makes every situation awful. And of course, Mr. Darcy doesn't exactly improve matters."
At that moment, Maria Lucas flew into the room, tripping over her skirt on the way.
"Lizzy! You will never ever guess who has come!"
"You'd better tell me." Lizzy grimaced. Maria was too much like Lydia for comfort.
"You are out of sorts this morning," said Maria. "Anyway, it will serve you right. Colonel Fitzwilliam is outside the house, talking to my brother-in-law!" Lizzy did her best to keep from making a remark about Mr. Collins. "And you shall never believe who is with him. Mr. Darcy! He's come out in all this wind, just to talk to Charlotte! He's a very attentive man."
"You speak from too little knowledge of him," began Lizzy, but Maria wasn't listening. She had crossed over to the window and was watching the party outside. Mr. Collins was pointing to his flowers with a simpering smile on his face. The Colonel was doing his best to look pleased. After a little while, he excused himself from Mr. Collins' clutches and walked over to Darcy. The two talked for a while. Finally, Charlotte went over to the men.
"Mercy!" Maria declared. "They are coming in! Charlotte has invited them inside the house! Oh my goodness, Colonel Fitzwilliam so close! I shall faint!" She looked about her for a comfortable chair, so as to be ready when the inevitable happened. Lizzy watched Maria amusedly and remembered her mother's rantings whenever Mr. Bennet had "no respect for her nerves."
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy walked into the parlor where Lizzy and Maria were sitting. After the usual greetings, Colonel Fitzwilliam broke the silence by suggesting a walk around his aunt's grounds. Maria readily agreed, so did Charlotte and Mr. Lucas. Mr. Collins said he would come half-way, just up till the big house. He had business to discuss with Mrs. de Bourgh. Only Lizzy and Darcy declined.
Darcy waited until the rest of the people had left the house on their walk. Then he walked up to Lizzy, who was sitting reading a novel. He just stood until Lizzy looked up from her novel in surprise.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes...No...Oh, I don't know. Please, just listen to me, for a few minutes. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
Lizzy was really surprised now. Whatever prompted this, and from Mr. Darcy of all people!
He was continuing, speaking of how he fell in love with her. "I knew I shouldn't," he said, "but I couldn't help it. Your family, your friends, your relations, all are completely beneath me. None have acted in accordance with my standards. However, I am totally willing to overlook this failing, if you accept my proposal. My only requirement is that your mother should never be welcome at Pemberley."
Lizzy was stunned now. She believed him to be totally sincere, because she had no reason to suspect him otherwise. What sort of proposal was this, talking of her failings and those of her family? Her mind was made up on the subject.
"Me, to marry you!" she cried when he paused for her answer. "To accept the proposal of the man who has ruined my sister's happiness, not to mention George Wickham's!"
"I don't deny persuading my friend to leave town. His welfare was at stake. Should he be known to be in connection with your mother or younger sisters, even only through marriage, he should never get another job elsewhere."
"But he was in love with Jane. That shouldn't have mattered to him."
"I am totally assured of Charles's affection for your sister. However, to me, it didn't seem reciprocal. Every action of his spoke volumes on his love for her, while she seemed only indifferent to him. Charles stood in fair chance of having his heart broken."
"It isn't in Jane's character to show love so deeply! But I assure you, she felt more than he ever could have." Lizzy protested.
"I didn't know that. I can only say I am sorry. But what do you mean by mentioning Wickham in this? Can you not know his real character?"
"I know everything about your dealings with him, and how you forced him out of a perfectly good living as a clergyman, and now he is only a peddler, selling farm tools."
Darcy went white, then red. Without another word, he turned and went out of the door. Lizzy sank down into the chair, bewildered and exhausted.
"Lizzy! Lizzy!" Maria came bouncing into Lizzy's room. "The mail is here! There's a letter for you from Mrs. de Bourgh."
"What?" Lizzy looked up from her book in disbelief. "Why would Mrs. de Bourgh write to me? The woman hates me!"
"I don't know, but here's the letter. And look, that handsome man, Colonel Fitzwilliam, sent me a letter! Oh, how I feel like swooning when he talks to me, or even looks at me." Maria dropped gracefully into a chair, demonstrating her swoon.
"He'll never marry you if you do that," remarked Lizzy, opening her letter. "More likely he'll think you've a weak heart and propose to someone else. You know as well as I do that ladies who swoon are considered second-class out here. Save it for New York."
"Do you think he'd really propose to someone else, Lizzy? Oh, no! I had better forget about the swooning then. What can really catch a man's eye?"
"Try cooking him a meal 'just like Mama's.' Men always fall for that."
"Oh, Lizzy you have the most wonderful ideas! I'm going to go down right now and ask Mrs. Collins to teach me how to cook." Maria skipped happily out of the room.
"Silly goose," said Lizzy indulgently. Her attention turned to the letter. Three pages! Who in the world could have so much to say to her? It certainly wasn't Mrs. de Bourgh, as Maria Lucas had thought. The handwriting was that of a man, very decisive and obviously agitated. Lizzy hurriedly turned to the last page, eager to see the signature.
Fitzwilliam Darcy! What a disappointment. Unwilling to read anything written by the man who had spoken so demeaningly of herself and her family, Lizzy set down the letter and went back to her book. However, her attention wandered back to the letter and finally, she went to pick up it up once again.
Mr. Darcy had written:
To Elizabeth Bennet:I can well imagine your feelings upon receiving a letter from the man who you appear to hate with such vehemence. However, I trust in your good sense, which is above all rational and just, to at least hear my defense. Yesterday, you accused me of two faults, the first being that I ruined the happiness of your eldest sister and the second being that my actions brought George Wickham to his low status.
In your sister's case, I admit that I was mistaken. At Mr. Lucas's party, I saw how attached my friend Bingley had become to your sister. His feeling for her was evident in every aspect of his demeanor towards her. Out of an interest in my friend, I o observed your sister, and found her to be cold and impartial. She appeared to enjoy his attention, but did not seek it. Later that night, I chanced to overhear certain ladies talk about the pair, predicting marriage.
Knowing my friend to be naïve as well as rich, and seeing that your sister behaved in a way opposite to that of a girl in love, I felt that she was a fortune hunter. I believed that the two must be separated. I was acting in the best wishes for my friend Bingley, and I had little knowledge of your sister's character. Although I worked for the best, I have caused pain and unhappiness for your sister. I apologize to you and to her, and will try to make amends when I next see my friend.
As for Wickham, however, I fear that you are mistaken. I do not know what he has told you, but I do know the truth, which I will relate now.
Old Mr. Wickham was a good man, my father's right-hand man and best friend. When he died, he made my father the guardian of his children. When we were young, George Wickham and I were inseparable. However, as he grew older, Wickham fell in with bad company. When my father died, he had my promise that I would help my old friend start in whatever walk of life he chose. It was the late Mr. Wickham's dying wish that his son go into the clergy. Wickham, however, professed an interest in an allowance instead of the church. Remembering my promise, I agreed to send him a thousand dollars each month, and hoped that he would exit my life. It was not to be.
Three years later, my sister Georgiana, who is ten years younger than me, was sent to London to finish her education. Somehow, Wickham found out about this and followed her there. He wormed his way into her good graces and convinced her to elope with him. She was only eighteen, and very impressionable. She had no knowledge of Wickham's previous dealings with me, and I suppose that to her, he appeared as a romantic figure. The elopement was planned for the day after her graduation from school. I came to London a week earlier than I had planned, and Georgiana confessed the plan to me. I cut off Wickham's allowance and forbid Georgiana to speak to him again. When she heard the true facts, she was horrified that she had been fooled by his romantic appearance.
Whether or not Wickham was ill used by me is for you to decide. I have stated the facts of the matter as plainly as I could.
Fitzwilliam Darcy