Section I, Next Section

Chapter 1

Posted on Monday, 20 September 2004

...but by everybody else, Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of all man.

Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 24

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 ... 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 consolation was that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane again and would be enable to contribute to the recovery of her spirits with all that affection could do. She could not think of Darcy's leaving Kent without remembering that his cousin was to go with him but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him...

While settling this point, the clatter of horse hoofs in the front yard suddenly roused her attention, then the sound of the doorbell. Might it be Colonel Fitzwilliam coming to inquire after her health -- on horseback? Was he not supposed to take tea with his aunt? Elizabeth, a little flustered, rose quickly. Plucking at her frock, she prepared herself for the visitor. To her astonishment, Margaret, Charlotte's housemaid, entered alone waving a letter.

"This express has just arrived, Madam," said she, every freckle in her face dancing with curiosity. "No fee has been asked, the letter is paid in advance."

Elizabeth instantly recognized Jane's handwriting and gripped it greedily. Almost dying of curiosity and not a little bit fearful of what might be the reason for this urgency, she broke the seal. Margaret lingered, curious for every bit of news that might come her way but as Elizabeth's manner showed absentmindedness, she shrugged and bounced out the room. Turning to the window to catch the last rays of the afternoon sun, Elizabeth, with ever increasing wonder, read as follows:

Dearest Lizzy,

Be not alarmed by receiving this urgent letter, but it is my keenest wish to let you, of all people most dear to me, in the earliest time know that I am the happiest creature in the world! Dear sister, I am engaged to be married!

Are you able to guess who my husband shall be? My Mr. Bingley has just left the house of my uncle and I am happy to say that I am to see him henceforth on every day of my life!

Shall I say that he never learned of my staying in town? Caroline never told him. He came today and has lost no time to unburden his heart to me, how sorry he is about the whole affair and his stupidity, explaining his absence from Netherfield with his believing me indifferent to him, though I shall not say that this was sheer stupidity. However, my reaction on our meeting yesterday evening should have told him already all that he needed to know.

h, Lizzy, what a muddle this was! Now, that he has me assured of his love and devotion, I am, even after so many hours as confused, shaken and scarcely able to comprehend my luck as when the impossible happened. I am not coherent and feel a bit overthrown, so take mercy.

Let me tell you from the beginning:

Yesterday, we went to the theatre; Shakespeare's Richard III was on the agenda. In the intermission, we stood talking to nice Mr. and Mrs. Saunders whom you know from our last visit. At the announcement that the pause was to end, Mr. Saunders left his place and suddenly gave way to the vision of Mr. Bingley staying behind him and facing in my direction. We involuntarily looked up and both stared at each other as if searching our souls. Imagine my shock! Then dearest sister: I fainted! For the first time in my life, the world went black before my eyes. I came to myself again in the woman's cloakroom after merciful ministrations of my aunt and Mrs. Saunders with smelling salt and wet handkerchiefs. As they praised Mr. Bingley for carrying me in, I nearly fainted a second time but could I help it? Think of my discomfort for the inconveniences for them all. As you can guess, my aunt worried about me, called the evening at an end and asked Mr. Gardiner to go for the carriage. I dared not ask where Mr. Bingley was or if they had spoken with him.

On our return home, my uncle, troubled about my lapse, asked what motive there was for a healthy girl to faint in front of a mere acquaintance. He would not wish to appear nosy but they had heard rumours at Longbourn. He only asked from concern for my well-being. His gentle prodding was my undoing. The whole miserable history rushed out of me without my being able to stop myself, accompanied by some painful details on my real feelings, which no one was in the position to know, except you.

Dearest Lizzy, is it possible that I have inherited somewhat of my mother's nervous disposition and might it have an influence on my senses? For after telling this, I am ashamed to confess that I cried as never before. Where the tears came from, I knew not. They flew for fully ten minutes without my being able to stop them and it all ended in a terrible hiccup. It seems, I have suppressed too many emotions over the months, not knowing that my grief went so deep. At last, I felt so drained and dizzy that aunt Gardiner provided me with a soporific and tucked me into bed. It is nice to be treated like a child again, especially at a time when you fervently wish to never have grown up. My uncle, dear man, really was concerned and she had work to convince him that I was in no need for a doctor; I should be fully improved in the morning.

I woke up with a feeling to have dreamt it all. However, having shed all the tears and soundly slept the night, I was equipped to face the world again. Old Dr. Barnaby prescribed fresh air and exercise and so I went with the children to the park, my head full of Mr. Bingley. I can scarcely describe the mood I was in, swaying betwixt delight and hopelessness.

What shall I say, dear Lizzy, on my return, he was there.

You cannot imagine what I felt as I saw him standing in the parlour. First, he only looked at me anxiously. However, I must have smiled and that must have given him courage. With two strides he approached me, took my hands in his and declared all that he felt for me, long has felt, and all the pain his stupidity has caused him. My head was so bewildered that I first was unable to answer. Long ago, you have asserted that his sisters have reservations concerning our family. His words confirmed some of it, though guardedly, and I could not but realize that they worry not only about my connections but about my person also. They have supposed me indifferent to him and tried to convince him of it. How could they ever doubt? Have I been so reserved? I think not, as I had been solely in his company all those weeks in Hertfordshire.

We had a long, honest talk, speaking about reservations, doubts, trust, beliefs and esteem on both sides. It was painful but satisfying and at least, I was able to say that I return his feelings and he should harbour no sorrow about the past; he and I had been victims of circumstances out of our influence.

How could I ever truly have doubted his affections for me? They were all in his eyes and those had never been without, not even in Hertfordshire then.

Our confusion lasted for another ten minutes and now we are engaged. Before he went home to tell his sisters, our aunt insisted on a small celebration with the children. Was not that nice?

Dear sister, is it right to capture my luck despite his sister's reservations? Imagine Caroline's surprise and discomfort! However, I am not willing to do anything about it. Sometimes, though, I feel hesitant on their behalf. Then I think of him, and that I will marry him and make him happy. If I had spoken with him earlier nothing of this would have happened. In the future, I will never let anyone take happiness away from me anymore. I will fight for it and no difficulty shall go past without my imposing it to open discussion. The worst you can do in life is to keep quiet when you should speak. That is my firmest opinion after the ordeal we have gone through.

I have so much to tell you, I wished you were here to share my pleasure. This evening he comes to dinner and tomorrow we shall take a drive through St. James's park. How shall I bear such happiness? Mama will be in raptures, Papa pleased and I know your delight is equal to mine.

I hope this missive will be with you until evening so that you can go to bed happy in the knowledge of your family's fortune and the blissful ending of a sad story.

Your rapturously happy sister,
Jane

Here Elizabeth let sink the letter, her feelings beyond expression and comprehension almost impossible. Jane--engaged to Mr. Bingley and having suffered such an unfamiliar crisis. Excitement made her unfit for coherent thoughts, though she tried to stay dignified and not jump through the parlour. In the height of her exhilaration, the doorbell jingled a second time. She heard a male voice and with a feeling that every now and then visitors happen at the most inconvenient time, she waited impatiently for him to appear. With Colonel Fitzwilliam in her mind, she was wholly unprepared for the sight of Mr. Darcy, of all man.

Elizabeth stared at him as Jane might have stared at Mr. Bingley, her sister's letter sliding off her suddenly feeble fingers. He had been staring also but stopped short as the papers fluttered at his feet. Picking them up diverted him from saying whatever his purpose was in coming to see her. While the gentleman bent to grip the sheets, Elizabeth caught Margaret's eyes hanging in open admiration at his figure. Despite being observed, the girl batted her lashes shamelessly and closed the door with a provoking slowness, unperturbed grinning at Elizabeth. This piece of impudence snapped Elizabeth out of her stupor; she made a mental note for advising Charlotte to educate her maid on proper behaviour; next morning at the latest.

Mr. Darcy, oblivious to what had been going on behind him, handed her the letter with a reserved curiosity in his eyes. If his complexion was somewhat heightened, it must be from the exertion.

"I hope there is nothing serious in this letter and you are well, Miss Bennet?" he asked, his eyes intently on her face. While his voice surged through the room, his evil sins tumbled about in her mind. His presence left her little chance for thinking clearly as the sheer authority emanating from him made her hackles rise. Insolent creature! In her estimation, his flawless appearance served in no way his likeability, handsome or not, superior or not, he should be a simpleton, short, fat, and balding.

Had he been able to know the ideas running riot in her mind and the emotions attacking her composure, he would have been shocked. Elizabeth's persistent desire for punishment whenever she saw him became increasingly insurmountable. However, unexpectedly feeling all the triumph of being able to conquer his overbearing, despicable behaviour towards Jane and his friend so all of a sudden, she resolved on an instant notion to challenge him for his impudence. Time was come to set a few matters straight with that gentleman. Imaginings of immediate revenge crushed all reason, and curiosity as to his being here at this time of the day while he should be entertaining guests in his aunt's parlour, never entered her head. She answered with grim politeness that all was well and with barely concealed satisfaction, she attacked him thus,

"Yes, thank you. I have just learned from my sister that she is engaged... to Mr. Bingley!"

The name tingled in the air. Mr. Darcy looked up, startled. A queer expression crossed his face she was not able to read and fancied chagrin. In the following silence, she could indeed enjoy several moments of sweet success. Yet, savouring her triumph in all the great fashion it afforded, her victory was somewhat short-lived as Mr. Darcy, admirably skilled in concealing whatever moved him on the inner side, recovered his faculties. If he was disturbed, he hid it well. He went quietly to a nearby table and discarded gloves, hat and walking stick. Feeling nettled that his reaction lacked somewhat in intensity on the side she had wished for, she entered with energy her next charge,

"They met accidentally at the theatre. -- So much for your interference in their affair!" Her chin rose. "As you see, Mr. Bingley is, in spite of all the power of your authority, able to manage his own life and even without your permission!"

Never had she dared to affront anyone with such an impertinent manner of speech and she heaved a breath to steady her nerves. She could tell that he became wary and he examined her face minutely. Had his eyes been of any other colour, she might have been able to read their meaning but as they were of such an unfathomable dark brown, they revealed nothing. He took his time. Satisfied to have outwitted him, she offered him a seat, sat down herself and lowered her lashes, inspecting with feigned unconcern her hands, until his silence begun to affront her. What had he so much to think about, had she not been clear enough? She dearly would have loved to stamp her foot like an impatient child but remained calm with an effort. At last, she met his look unflinchingly and the belligerent sparkles in hers should have warned him.

At last the mute spoke,

"That is unexpected, I confess. I am surprised but I presume you are also. Is it that you doubt his feelings?"

Her outburst hit him unprepared.

"Doubt his feelings? I never doubted his feelings -- or hers, for example. It was obvious to all of us long ago that they were in love with each other. YOU have made him believe in my sister's indifference! YOU persuaded him to remain in town after his departure -- in alliance with his sisters, most likely. They never informed him of Jane's being in town, all these months!"

She was all accusation, breathing deeply.

"The feelings of my sister never have bothered you in the slightest! How was the term, 'very strong objections to the lady'! -- Can you deny it? Can you deny that the idea of your friend's alliance with a woman without fortune and connections does not meet with your noble values?"

Her wrath, fed by his cousin's accidental confession some hours earlier, was in earnest overcoming all feeling of politeness. She glared at him, daring him to contradict her.

"The concerns for your friend aside, can you deny that her family interferes with your ideas of the holy ranks of society? I know my family, Mr. Darcy, and I admit their shortcomings but you cannot find fault with my sister. Never! She is a lady by heart and deserves all the happiness in the world. I cannot but rejoice how miraculously fate has worked against all evil attempts of Mr. Bingley's friends to prevent their union."

This, at last, seemed to touch him. She saw him start. By the colour changing in his face, she could see that he was upset and prevented from answering by some heavy struggles. Having licked revenge, she was thirsty for more.

"I am not surprised that the love on both sides is genuine. That was all clear to us long ago. No, rather at the suddenness of its coming to a solution. I may say, fate is not to be trifled with, is it, sir? Thanks to your meddling, my sister has suffered several months of acute misery and Mr. Bingley appears to all audience as an indecisive simpleton. They will be eternally grateful for your endeavours."

Phew! Come what may, her heart buzzed with satisfaction for having shed the burden.

His complexion became pale (she hoped with mortification). To be rebuked in such a way - and from a lady - must be entirely new to him. However, his ancestors should be proud of him. Obviously, he had not wasted his many years of excellent education and breeding. Although his frown deepened, he shook himself firmly out of whatever was vexing him and asked hesitatingly,

"May I be so bold as to ask wherefrom the information stems about my interference. Is it mentioned in this letter, is Bingley aware of it?"

Perceiving that the notion of his friend being aware of his scheme was bothering him, some nefarious ideas touched her mind to let him think that he had fallen in disgrace with Mr. Bingley but she was not of a mind for such underhandedness. On the other side, it was a fine occasion to grant him another stab.

"Oh, no, your friend is ignorant of it. Your cousin was so kind as to boast of your great sense of solicitude towards one of your friends. It was not in his power to know that I was a participant in the spectacle. I knew at once of whom he spoke but I did not enlighten him. Be not afraid, his belief in your honour is untouched."

A moment went in which Mr. Darcy tried to overcome his feelings but seemed more pensive than ashamed (as he better should be) and finally he answered with an irritating self-confidence and a fair amount of haughtiness,

"I have no wish to deny that I separated my friend from your sister and I rejoice in my success. I saw how Bingley favoured her but in her countenance, I detected nothing more than friendliness. Bingley is very dear to me and I do not wish to see my best friend tied in a hapless marriage. If your sister's feelings were injured, it was unwillingly done and I shall not hesitate to apologize for it." With an edge of remorse in his voice, he continued,

"Please pardon me, it is not my intention to offend you but the situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison to the want of propriety in the conduct of your mother and your three younger sisters, even occasionally, pardon me, of your father. You cannot deny it. I have witnessed your mortifications on their behalf often enough. Given the relative insecurity of your family's situation, I felt myself right to suppose that your sister could be persuaded into an alliance even if she did not love him. She has undoubtedly a lovely face, a serene countenance and an angelic disposition but offers of marriage in a similar kind will possibly not occur again in a predictable future or, forgive my presumption, in a lifetime."

Elizabeth's anger grew, fuelled by some irksome scruples in telling her of his having a certain right to his attitude in protecting his friend (if his intentions were as honourable as he proclaimed!). Had she not done the same for Jane? -- But his pride, his abominable pride. She did not believe that concern for his friend was the only motif for his 'rational' statement, it seemed, moreover, a feeble excuse and afforded no alleviation, because he just had made the same assessment as Mr. Collins in his proposal to her last November, about not having a second chance. Despicable condescension!

"I am sorry," he continued with a calmer voice as he saw her frown, "it pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations and your displeasure at this representation of them, please consider that the censure does not include you and your eldest sister. Your conduct was admirable; it is honourable to the sense and disposition of you both."

Praise from Mr. Darcy? How odd. Eying him perplexed, she saw a smile sneaking about his lips. His anger seemed to have evaporated and he observed her with an even look. That would not do, he was not to get the better of her. Condemned as he was as the worst of all men by all of Meryton, and considering his behaviour and ill treatment of Wickham, she felt herself safely armed to abuse him to his face with it all. However, while musing over those issues it occurred to her that in pursuing her own interests against Mr. Darcy, the best friend of Jane's husband-to-be, she might cause discomfort in such a gentle creature as Jane, who never could see Mr. Darcy in the same sinister light. Was it not advisable to better remain quiet for her sake? His next words interrupted her reflections.

"Miss Bennet, you may have superior knowledge of your sister and if she truly loves Charles and returns his feelings, I am delighted for them both. Nothing matters more in a marriage than true affection and mutual esteem between husband and wife."

The words came forward in such unaffected sincerity that Elizabeth stared at him. Could this Mr. Darcy have said that? The man was suffering from hypocrisy!

"I might suggest, as we are -- given the circumstances -- in each other's company fairly often in the future, we seek to overcome our misunderstandings in a less ... uh ... argumentative way."

Elizabeth simmered with indignation as she heard her own ideas uttered with such benevolence. His kind smile only served to anger her further. "You think me uncivil, Mr. Darcy?" Flaring up and immediately wishing it unsaid, Elisabeth swallowed. That man's conduct was wakening the worst in her despite her otherwise amiable temper. However, Mr. Darcy, not to be sidetracked, replied composedly,

"You must pardon the freedom with which I express myself. Your feelings, I fear, will bestow it unwillingly but I demand it of your feelings of justice and common sense. I do not find you uncivil ... it is but your attitude to willfully misunderstand me whenever you choose."

Elizabeth, never once been called on to doubt the soundness of her mind and priding herself on the accuracy of her judgements, stared at the man, all prickles in vigilance. How infuriating to hear her sentiments twisted in such a way. 'Wilfully', indeed! However, she could not help it. With an effort she calmed down, collected her wits and succeeded even so far as to grudgingly apologize.

This provoked yet another smile. Was he not taking her seriously? - To the cuckoo with the man and all his self-importance! She began to feel the strenuousness of the visit, wished he would go and let her enjoy Jane's letter. She bestowed him a dark glance, willing to wipe the smile off his face and hereby undoing all her former repenting. Little did she know that Mr. Darcy never held her capable of affronting anyone. His eyebrows shot heavenwards as he saw her look and with a complacent smile -- though every fibre the gentleman -- he touched his cravat and said,

"Never mind, Miss Bennet, my valet tries to throttle me every day. He takes pleasure in that, three times at least."

Elizabeth, affected by a sudden laugh, had trouble to swallow it. Left mute by the endeavour, it made her hackles rise anew, not to mention that she blushed profusely at his perceptiveness. This unpredictable side of him was new to her. She avoided his eyes, and catching sight of his fingers against the snowy white of his cravat, their strength and shapeliness arrested her. Thus, Mr. Darcy took her unawares with his next words,

"You harbour resentments against me, I fear."

As he uttered his reproach with such calmness, and more alarmingly, without any trace of being affronted, Elizabeth met his look with some confusion. She had always thought him a stickler for rules and the question implied an intimacy that sat not well with her. Remembering his first entrance at the assembly room in Meryton months ago: Tall, wonderfully handsome and impeccably attired -- there he seemed like an apparition from a higher world, the answer to all maidenly dreams, until his manners and his subsequent behaviour gave her a hearty disgust of him and showed him as nothing more than a conceited, arrogant fellow. An inner voice told her not to underestimate this man. However ominous his character, hidden behind his reserve, he carried himself with power and style.

Wickham's assertions came into her mind that Mr. Darcy, coming from a wealthy, noble family and being master of Pemberley, was used having his own way in whatever fashion he choose, be it amiable or not. After upbraiding and mocking him at every turn, accusing him of haughtiness and battering his pride, he always had responded with politeness, sometimes smiling but ever calmly overlooking her conduct as if he found it comprehensible in a member of the lower landed gentry, where she belonged. Apart from his slip at the assembly, he never once had stained his impeccable breeding by letting himself be provoked. Even now, the style of his remark was sort of civil, not uttered to annoy, and she could not fathom what to make of it. Suddenly, he was beyond her understanding. The man was dangerous! She remembered their walks together in the groves around Rosings and his questions, so unconnected, implicating things she was not prepared to understand, making her uneasy and at a loss how to respond. The same perverse feeling gripped her now and fervently did she wish him gone.

Noting her hesitation, he said, "I presume, I have to thank Mr. Wickham for the honour."

How could it be that his manners were so unassuming as the question was indiscreet? Warning bells rang in her mind, not to let him outwit her and let herself be drawn into a discussion, which months ago he had disdained to perform. Now, long after she had tackled him with Wickham's misfortune at the Netherfield ball, she knew that her conduct had been improper. Remembering his reaction, she afterwards had been impressed, albeit unwillingly, how undeterred he had handled the matter. Was there anything on God's earth that could shake the man and his self-assurance?

She fixed her astonished eyes on his and both were immediately lost in a silent battle of... whatever it was, she did not understand but it gave her a feeling of impropriety (a young lady never must stare at a gentleman, particularly when he owned such deceptively dark eyes). She blushed, her agitation increasing to an uncomfortable heartbeat. That his face went dark also, though his eyes never wavered, made things even worse. She had to get a grip on herself. Forcibly oppressing a hem, she answered with emphasis,

"I will not be provoked into discussing Mr. Wickham with you, Mr. Darcy. You cannot deny your disinclination to make friends in Hertfordshire. You wished to be left alone without any concern on how we fare with your attitude. However, it had been your right to do so, and our right was to act as we choose."

He looked with astonishment at the picture she made of him and protested,

"But it was never intended that way, Miss Bennet. I am a very reserved person, and do not easily make friends as I told you at the last dinner at Rosings. Did I not dance with you at the Netherfield Ball..."

"Yes, the compliment was ... felt, sir. But it is beyond your knowledge that following your and Mr. Bingley's departure, my sister and I were much talked of: She for her disappointed hopes and I for the honour of your ... uh ... politeness."

Was there comprehension dawning in his eyes, concern diffusing his features? It could not be. She hardened her mind against all that could come from him. Interest for Mr. Darcy was belittling Jane's distress and that of Mr. Wickham.

"I am sorry," was all he said, "It seems, I am guilty of a thoughtless conduct."

She shrugged with feigned indifference and airily said, "Gossip in a small market town is never to stop, one way or other."

Following a pause in which both were engrossed in thoughts, he at length drew his chair nearer and addressed her thus, "I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, there is much to be said about Mr. Wickham's amiability but bear in mind that those things can be very misleading. I mentioned once that he is a master in making friends but believe me, when he is gone, he leaves a trail of ruin and devastation behind. I know, I should not speak about another gentleman in such severe terms and nothing could tempt me to do it if Mr. Wickham earned that title."

The calmness in his voice gave his words such insistence and a persuasiveness that Elizabeth was hard pressed to give them credit, even though unwillingly. Her eyes roamed searchingly the face of her adversary and the earnest in his made her heart sink. In seconds, she was a victim of conflicting emotions rendering her silent.

"I do not know what his complaints have been but I can imagine that they were outrageous. It is not my intention to defend myself in the face of the world, I need not stoop so far, but I am driven by concern for the welfare of you or any other young lady's singled out by him. I can only advise you, not to give credit to all his assertions. He is not to be trusted and never -- in any way -- with women."

Elizabeth was shocked, ready to wildly retaliate, when Wickham's picture showed suddenly up in her mind, his defecting her for the more substantial dowry of Miss King and the conversation with Aunt Gardiner.

Mr. Darcy saw her struggles but thankfully not attempted to elaborate on the matter. He asked after her sister's welfare and that of Mr. Bingley. She answered that they were well, naturally. Nevertheless, her tone indicated that she was not willing to continue the conversation and he took the hint.

"Forgive me for interrupting you while reading your sister's letter. At Rosings, I heard you were unwell. I longed for a walk and as my way went hither, I came in to ask if you were better. I see that your spirits are recovered and you are happy with the upcoming events. If I presume rightly, you will be in the groves around Rosings tomorrow morning, therefore, I will take my leave now. When shall you be in London, in a week, as planned, or do you return earlier to celebrate with your sister?"

She answered that her staying or not depended on Miss Lucas; the intended departure would be in over a week. He cast her another thoughtful look before he expressed his hope to see her eventually in town in the company of Mr. Bingley, then he wished her a good journey and took leave.

She stared after him and tried to come to terms with herself and the shocking hints about Mr. Wickham, her reluctance to heed his warning intense. The front door shut and she saw him through the window walk toward Rosings. As she knew enough of Mr. Darcy, she detected subtle changes in his countenance. His aloof muteness and brooding temper was gone at their meeting already; now his way of walking, though always suggesting that his legs carried a sound body, showed a hitherto unknown animation and his face a countenance bordering on... contentment! He seemed pleased with himself and it vexed her. Why should he be pleased; he should be downcast and fuming.

Thinking of the maid's cheeky admiration at his entering, she, willing to make the act undone, poked her tongue at his retreating back. This accomplished, it induced her to brood for a while, not knowing whose behaviour angered her most, his or her own. She caught Jane's letter again and soon expelled Mr. Darcy from her mind. Why waste all energy on the wrong person? Jane was happy; therefore, Elizabeth was even happier.

"Dear, lovely Jane," she breathed, bursting with emotions. Perusing the letter again and again in high spirits, kissing it, holding it against her heart, she exulted in the long desired event, yearned to be with Jane, to partake of her joy, to witness her sister in all her cheerfulness.

"What a perfect coincidence! Yes, fate is not to be trifled with and all the Mr. Darcys and Miss Bingleys of the world shall go to the antipodes - and Mr. Wickham with them."

Chapter 2 - A Young Man of Large Fortune

Posted on Friday, 24 September 2004

If he had any compassion for me, he would have sprained his ankle in the first dance...

Mr. Bennet to his wife about Mr. Bingley, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 2

Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations, which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened and it was impossible to think of anything else. A bright day beckoned, its sunny aspect matching her mood. She dressed cheerfully, envisioning how the happy news would gratify her friends. Humming a tune, she entered the dining room and found it already crowded with the family. After offering a cheery good morning, she saw three pairs of eyes curiously fastened upon her face. Did they know? How? She faltered. Mr. Darcy, he must have informed them last evening upon his return to Rosings. Odious man!

"You know?" she asked, not able to make out what the strange looks should signify otherwise.

"What is it that we should know, Lizzy?" asked Charlotte after a quick glance at her husband who, munching in silent meditation, appraised his young cousin thoughtfully. Elizabeth threw herself at Charlotte and twirled her about the room.

"Mr. Bingley has made Jane an offer of marriage! Imagine! She is to become Mrs. Bingley," she cried and clasped her friend in a fierce embrace.

Charlotte hesitated for a second, searching Elizabeth's face, and then her even temper transferred into raptures. Miss Lucas gave them a look expressive of her wonder and Mr. Collins stared struck dumb. Her friend's response was all that Elizabeth could wish for. Charlotte assured her in a most sincere manner that she was highly convinced of Jane's happiness. "Dearest Lizzy!" cried she embracing Elizabeth, "I am so glad for you all." They hugged each other in mutual delight and Elizabeth felt all the warmth of her friend's good wishes.

Mr. Collins did not forgo to perform a somewhat lengthy statement on the importance of sufficient means, good health and modesty (on the wife's side) in a marriage. Suddenly, he was gripped by an urge to hurry up to Rosings. His noble patroness was unenlightened and that he was not willing to permit, particularly in such a special case of importance where also other intelligences had entered his mind and must be passed on. He finished breakfast in a rush and hastened up to Rosings.

Miss Lucas had also risen. She was to go on an errand to Hunsford village with the maid. Dutifully, she left the room after a peculiar look at Elizabeth. While the latter wondered about Mr. Collin's reason for his hasty departure, Charlotte's thoughts were otherwise engaged.

Pouring Elizabeth a cup of tea, she remarked calmly,

"Yesterday ... at teatime ... Mr. Darcy was missing."

The words hung several moments between them before Elizabeth grasped their meaning. Mr. Darcy -- she had quite forgotten him. Blushing against will, she caught Charlotte's meaningful look. Oh, dear Charlotte, who believed Mr. Darcy partial to her. Ridiculous.

"He called on you about that time, Margaret informed us," Charlotte continued.

"Yes," scoffed Elizabeth, "he pounced upon me right after I had read Jane's missive, conveyed into the parlour by a simpering Margaret who oozed worship out of every pore. The man is a nuisance."

Charlotte, deep in thoughts, stirred her tea. "What did he say? Did he give any explanation? Lady Catherine was quite put out with him."

"She should be so. She loves to rule her inferiors as well as her family members. It was of no concern for me why he came; my sole interest was Jane's letter. I told him and he was quite shocked. Ha!"

Elizabeth smiled in mock reminiscence. She provided Charlotte with a short narrative of last afternoon, wisely omitting any peculiar particulars.

"Please, you cannot read anything out of the ordinary in this. It was all quite by accident."

"All quite by accident, Lizzy? As much as it pains me, I must tell you that Mr. Collins drew his own conclusions and as I know him and his line of thoughts, he is by now informing Lady Catherine, as you know he tells her everything. The idea of Jane marrying Mr. Bingley will add fuel to the fire -- one marriage leads to the other if you grasp my meaning and Maria, foolish as she is, transported herself into a romantic fit about you and Mr. Darcy following Margaret's announcement. I do not know how to stop her from gossiping with your sisters. God help you when your mother hears of it."

Rendered speechless, Elizabeth stared at her friend. "Are you insinuating that Mr. Darcy came to make me an offer of... of marriage?"

She dissolved into laughter.

"Whatever I believe is of no consequence. Mr. Collins thoughts have a tendency thither, though I doubt that he has a alliance like marriage in mind."

"Charlotte!" cried Elizabeth aghast but her friend continued unperturbed, "You know, Lady Catherine sees Mr. Darcy as her own property, being her supposed future son-in-law. She will fight you like a lioness whether you are innocent or not and whatever her nephew's intentions may be."

Elizabeth stared in horror, lost in visualizations of the most acute kind: Lady Catherine pouncing wildly at her with claws sharp as daggers; Mr. Collins, eyes raised to heaven, lost in futile prayers for his cousin's jeopardized honour; Mrs. Bennet, armed to the teeth with fierce determination to win the battle for her daughter (or throttle her when not) and Mr. Darcy, towering above them all, in supreme indifference. Her appetite waned.

"You are in for a rough time, Lizzy, if I may presume so much. It might be better to leave for London. The betrothal of your dear sister is an excuse well enough."

Elizabeth became angry. "I ask you, what have I done to deserve such fate. It is all Mr. Darcy's doing. That man is in the way everywhere."

Charlotte shook her head. "No, Lizzy, I cannot follow your judgement where he is concerned. Reserved, silent and sometimes haughty he might be, but I doubt that he has one undeserving bone in his body; in that you err. With all my heart I wish he would see your worth and you his."

The utter earnest in her friend's speech rendered Elizabeth mute. She kept silent while imaginings of a wooing Mr. Darcy pestered her. It was then for the better that in this moment a neighbour, who had been nice enough to start early with his business, brought the post over and with it a letter from Mrs. Gardiner. Elizabeth quickly excused herself for a stroll as the weather was fine and she should better take advantage of it. Soothed by a mild breeze, she was determined to forget the morning's unpleasantness. Nothing should thwart her delight with Jane's happy fate. Not very far from the parsonage, she seated herself on a fallen tree and unfolded her aunt's letter. Mrs. Gardiner, after warmly greeting her niece, assumed with unerring insight that Elizabeth might desire a narrative of the luck that had befallen her sister. Fortunately in agreement with her aunt's clever perception, Elizabeth read with eagerness the narrative as to what had occurred at the theatre. When it came to the next morning, however, the contents varied,

This morning we called doctor Barnaby to look after Jane so that he quiets our fears. Mr. Gardiner was of the opinion that it was not likely for a young woman, strong as Jane, to collapse so easily. The doctor identified a slight crisis of the nerves, nothing that was not be cured by fresh air and exercise. Therefore, we sent Jane and the children for a stroll to the park. Before all else, it was our plan to intercept Mr. Bingley, who last evening had expressed the wish to call on her.

After your sister left the house with our youngsters, your uncle and I sat in his study holding council. We deliberated how to proceed with him as we felt a strong desire to examine his intentions towards your sister. We are responsible for her well-being and her collapse has worried us greatly. Regarding the strange history of his disappearance, we found Mr. Bingley. should be able to provide us with some clarifying notes on the matter. To disappear without ado and to reappear in an equally outlandish fashion was in our point of view not a scheme owing to fate. There had to be something peculiar in the young man's conduct that, having caused your sister such a considerable heartache, Mr. G. was not disposed to overlook.

We recalled your opinion about his sister's dealings with Jane, the assertions of the former concerning Miss Darcy, such as Mr. B.'s assumed partiality to that young lady and last but not least your suspicion that he is too reliant on Mr. Darcy's judgement. However it had been, Mr. B. was not to get away too easily with it all.

He came about ten and I liked him on first sight. In the theatre, he had quite escaped my notice because of the upheaval. Allow me to say, I find him as good-natured as Jane and wholly suitable for her.

"So, you wish to call on my niece, Mr. Bingley?" began my husband. Mr. B. smiled handsomely and replied that it was so. (Why did you not mention that he has such a nice deep voice?).

Your uncle, never a man wavering in his intent, told Mr. B. that he is particularly devoted to his niece and therefore felt himself called on to ask some questions. They might make him uncomfortable but out of concern for Jane, he must insist. Mr. B. gave his permission, though puzzled.

Then your uncle recapitulated his coming to Hertfordshire and making the acquaintance of the neighbours, especially the Bennets, and did not forget to mention the uncommon attentions he bestowed on Jane and the particular kindness of his sisters to her, duly noted by the entire neighbourhood. Here Mr. B. shifted in his seat, changed colour and nodded cautiously.

"But just in that particular moment, which all expected to be crowned by a particular proposal -- please forgive my presumption -- you disappear into the blue without any commotion and not a word of goodbye. Your sister informs my niece about her departure and yours with the hope of resuming an exchange of letters -- good friends that they were -- and by the way not forgetting to pass along her brother's regrets. He would be too busy in town with Mr. Darcy and his forthcoming commitment to that gentleman's sister."

Dear Lizzy, I knew not that my husband could be so harsh but being in business, it is imperative, I presume. Mr. B. stared; something seemed staggering to him and new. You suspected rightly: The part about his sister and Miss Darcy. Though perturbed, he kept listening.

"Mr. Bingley, no one can force you to make an offer but your sudden absence left my niece in agony. Not that she made any comment on her distress. She is one of the best creatures in the world and not only her feelings were wounded. She possesses a natural pride that also has been harmed. Nobody likes to find himself the target of gossip and mockery and the gossip was heavy in the wake of her disappointment."

Our young friend was silent for a moment, then a kind of enlightenment dawned on him and he asked with a husky voice, "Am I supposed to believe that Miss Bennet is ... was ... has ... some affection for me?"

Mr. G. and I looked at each other and my husband said, "If that were not the case, we would not be sitting here and talking in such a fashion."

We watched him struggling with emotions and waited. At length he gathered his wits and cleared his throat. He had left Netherfield on an errand to town with every intention of coming back soon and making the anticipated proposal. Seeing us look doubtfully, he continued, "Yes, I was about to propose. I love Miss Bennet and my intensions are clear, at least to me. Little did I know that my sister's plan bent on closing Netherfield the next day and joining me in town. I had no idea of it until they arrived. They expressed strong objections against my intentions and warned me, believing Miss Bennet indifferent to me. Therefore, I thought I needed time to think. To come back immediately would have called my sister's actions officious; that I could not permit. I asked Caroline to correspond with Miss Bennet and send her my regards and my regrets for not having said farewell. My intention was to take time, wait for an answer and see how she responded."

Your uncle knew no pity. "Whatever has induced you to stay in town, Mr. Bingley, the reason was kept from my niece. She came into town with us after Christmas, exchanged letters with your sister, visited her once, and waited four weeks for your sister to answer the visit."

Here our guest blinked incredulously.

"The actual event, when taking place, left Miss Bennet in no doubt as to the unwillingness of your sister to continue the acquaintance. You never came into view, on no occasion. My niece was then resigned to forget you. However, lo, an accidental meeting like yesterday brings you back into her life and here you are, claiming her acquaintance once again! -- By all that is dear to me, Mr. Bingley, I cannot allow it! I will not tolerate that you injure my niece yet again. I find your behaviour odd, to say the least, sister or no sister."

In the following silence, Mr. B. tried to come to terms with conflicting emotions. Naturally, I took pity on him while appreciating his struggles. At last, he began haltingly his recital of the happenings following his departure: His unwillingness at the beginning to heed their advice and his eventual succumbing under their 'better judgement' (and that of Mr. D., I presume). As it was obvious to him that no tidings from Hertfordshire were forthcoming and his sister received no words from Jane, he understood her indifferent to him.

You should have seen how bewildered he was. I guess he never once has looked on the affair with foreign eyes and the picture it made of him, his deceitful sister and her involving poor Miss D. in the scheme. As lovely as he finds Miss D., he made us believe, there is nothing but friendship towards the sister of his friend and Miss Bingley must have taken advantage of the situation to supply herself with a fake excuse out of concern for a disappointed brother; so he explained. The months in town have told him that his love belongs to Jane only. If we would allow, he would make all amends possible to convince us of his sincere regard for her.

Mr. G. remained guarded. "Mr., Bingley," he said, "I allow you to visit my niece under the condition that you take the consequences. Nothing other will do!"

This demand seemed to please the young man mightily. He beamed in an amazing fashion and requested to ask Jane for her hand in marriage, her father's consent presupposed. Mr. G. agreed and he recovered with lightning speed. Had I ever seen men blackmailed into an engagement, I believe no one would have accepted his fate with such alacrity. Wonderful! The rest you know.

Lizzy, having written all that is worth mentioning, I must end. The children have noticed the upheaval in this house today and are driving us crazy. They are playing 'Engagement' and cannot decide who should be engaged to whom. Allow me to send their greetings, enthusiastic as ever, also from your uncle. We will see you next week and await with impatience your pleasing presence in our house. Maybe, you can come earlier.

Your loving aunt,
Sincerely,
M. Gardiner

Elizabeth had never been in higher spirits. She could look at the absurdities of the morning with humour and took pleasure in anticipating her return. Jane's happiness was secure, thank God for that, and thanks to her resolute uncle. She chuckled at the picture of Mr. Bingley with red ears. From herself to Jane, from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line, which soon brought the recollection of Mr. Darcy's assertions yesterday afternoon. Now, in the wake of Jane's bliss, of the happiness it would bring to the family, she was more inclined to heed his words; in truth, she was overflowing with indulgence. He had declared to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister's attachment and she could not help remembering what Charlotte's opinion had always been. His description of Jane was accurate: Jane displayed little of her feelings, though fervent, and in her air and manner was a constant complacency concealing her great sensibility.

The part in which Mr. Darcy mentioned her family in terms of such mortifying reproach, however, touched her sense of shame. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial and the circumstances passing at the Netherfield ball could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers. The compliment to herself and her sister was felt; it soothed but it could not console her for the contempt which had been self-attracted by the rest of her family. Jane's disappointment had, in fact, been the work of her nearest relations and the impropriety of their conduct must considerably damage the credit of all the others of the family who were more sensible. She felt almost depressed but could not forgive Mr. Darcy for his interfering actions towards his friend and Jane. That he should be partial to her was unthinkable. Well, he now knew what her thoughts of him were and it was her sincere belief that he never would permit himself such weakness as to see more in her than what was 'tolerable'.

After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought, a recollection of her long absence made her return. Maria met her at the gate.

"Where have you been gone so long, Elizabeth?" she cried. "The two gentlemen from Rosings have called to take their leave. Especially Colonel Fitzwilliam who was excessively disappointed for having missed you."

"And Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked involuntarily. "Was he disappointed also?"

Mystified by the mocking intonation of her words, Maria shrugged, eying the elder girl curiously.

"Mr. Darcy was here only a short time and as enigmatic as ever. By the way, do you have a special interest in what he was thinking? The housemaid has gossiped, you know, and Mr. Collins has come from Rosings in quite a peculiar state. I may warn you, it concerns you. They cannot make me believe otherwise, closed up as they are about the matter."

Not waiting for an answer, she dragged Elizabeth with youthful unconcern into the house where the family already had gathered at the table. Silence welcomed them. Mr. Collins appeared flustered and chewed his meal oddly soundless. Glances between him and his wife indicated trouble, not fit to discuss in the presence of her sister. The girl did not uplift her eyes but smiled as if they could not delude her. Elizabeth puzzled over Margaret's red eyes and puffy face but made no comment. It could only further embarrass the girl, who was clumsier than usual about her tasks. Lunch was an uncomfortable affair.

Thereafter, Mr. Collins exerted himself so far as to invite his fair cousin into his book room. Exchanging glances with his wife, Elizabeth followed him and prepared herself for a show of silliness. On the way to his room, she came, in the hallway, across Margaret who threw her an exasperated look and tramped into the kitchen in a huff.

Mr. Collins's book room appeared to the eyes of the beholder as an example of painstaking tidiness and systematic order; no paper sheet out of place, no speck of dust visible, nor any remnants of pens mended and Elizabeth wondered how anyone came to inspirations in such parched surroundings. The master of the house began with a repetition of his congratulations on the approaching nuptials of her elder sister, of which he was happy that it occurred at the best possible time. Her younger sisters should certainly benefit from the affluence and good reputation of Mr. Bingley and, as he hoped, were able to meet eligible men of their own in due time.

"But you, my dear Cousin, I must earnestly caution! Far be it from me to suspect anything improper from Mr. Darcy. His absence from tea yesterday afternoon and his appearance in my humble abode while you were here alone was surely quite by accident. Any nephew of Lady Catherine is in every way a gentleman of the first water and above suspicion. I have the maid severely scolded for her mindlessness, as she should have refused him and said you were unattainable or, better, already retired. However, the deed is done and I entreat you, let his attentions not go to your head. Please, do not imagine that any intercourse with him should lead to an alliance."

Mr. Collins might be right in his estimation of the maid's folly but the absurdity of his assessment regarding Mr. Darcy's supposed intentions was not lost on Elisabeth. She laughed and was about to protest but he raised a hand to ward her off.

"We know, Mr. Darcy is blessed with everything the heart of a mortal can most desire: Splendid property, noble kindred and extensive patronage. Yet in spite of all these temptations let me warn you, Cousin Elizabeth, of what evils you may incur by upholding secret meetings with the gentleman."

Thus having communicated his sympathy, he ignored Elizabeth's gasps, drew nearer and continued in whispers,

"Apart from what I think as an impossibility of his making an offer to you, I have reason to believe that Lady Catherine does not look on any of those gatherings with a friendly eye. After mentioning to her ladyship that Mr. Darcy has visited you yesterday here in the house, she immediately, with her usual condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion. It became apparent that on the score of some family objections on the part of you, she strongly condemns what she termed," more whispers, "'so disgraceful a conduct'. I thought it my duty to give the speediest intelligence of this to you. Be aware of what you are about. I fully agree with her ladyship. You should reject any approach of your noble admirer and not run hastily into a situation that will not be favourably looked at. It might throw you in a peculiar position, dear Cousin. Her ladyship has expressed the wish to make herself clear on that matter and has entrusted me with the message that she requires your presence in Rosings at precisely three o'clock in the afternoon. I have expressed myself already to Mr. Darcy, whom I had the honour of meeting thereafter, in the case. As your nearest relation here in Hunsford and in my role as a clergyman, I felt myself called on to intervene on your behalf."

He was quite in the fidgets, dabbed his brow and crumpled his handkerchief in agitation. Elizabeth gazed at him, not knowing whether to laugh or to protest. However, she had endured the felicity of his absurdities often enough to know that nothing made him believe otherwise than he did. Not willing to make things worst by uttering indignation, she, as respectfully as possible, assured him of her innocence in the aforementioned affair, that all of it was absurd and that she never intended or wished to enter in an alliance with Mr. Darcy. Had she ever claimed him as her 'noble admirer'? No. She thanked Mr. Collins for his thoughtfulness by mentioning it to Lady Catherine but the great Lady may rest assured, the shades of Rosings were never in any danger of being polluted in such a way. If her words contained a tinge of sarcasm, Mr. Collins was blissfully unaware of it. Promptly, she left the room and his sad headshakes followed her.

She went into the parlour but Maria's presence forced her to put restriction on her temper. However, go she must, at least for her friend's sake. With little cordial feelings against Mr. Darcy and his untimely appearance, Elizabeth went to answer Lady Catherine's summons, fortified in the knowledge that, whatever the outcome of this interview, at least one of Mr. Darcy's family members was as silly as one of her own, if not worse. Mr. Collins and his noble patroness simply made an odd pair.

In anticipating Lady Catherine, she could not think without a smile that, had Mr. Darcy truly proposed last evening and she had accepted him, by this time he might have presented her to his aunt as her future niece already. How indignant her ladyship would have been. 'What might she have said, how would she have behaved and how would Mr. Darcy have answered her accusations were questions with which she amused herself on the way to Rosings, not knowing how speedily they were about to be answered.

The only thought bothering her was Charlotte's plea to tread carefully with her lively spirits and not harm Mr. Collins's position with that formidable lady.

Chapter 3 - Abuses and Enlightenments

Posted on Sunday, 26 September 2004

"After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations."

Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 58

The warmth of the day induced Elizabeth to leave cloak and bonnet in the entrance hall with the butler. He led her into the larger drawing room (that with the famous mantelpiece). Just then, Lady Catherine entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no other reply to her salutation than a slight inclination of the head and indicated for her to sit down without saying a word. At length her ladyship began.

"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my calling you hither. Your own heart, your own conscience must tell you why."

Elizabeth showed herself to be quite unaffected, heart and conscience felt free of guilt. "Indeed you are mistaken, madam. I have not been at all able to account for the honour."

"Miss Bennet," toned her ladyship with insistent attitude, "you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. However insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness and in a cause such as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature reached me this morning. I was told of some clandestine meetings between you and my nephew, Mr. Darcy. You succeeded even to lure him into Mr. Collin's house yesterday afternoon while we waited for him to join us at tea."

She waved Elizabeth, who was about to protest, impatiently into silence. "I was told that not only your sister is on the point of being most advantageously married but also that you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, harbour the presumption to be soon afterwards united to him, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy." She heaved a breath. "That must be a scandalous falsehood! What an impertinence even to think of it! I will not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible but I instantly resolved to make my sentiments known to you."

Elizabeth, though cautioned in advance, was momentarily aghast at finding herself accused in such a deplorable manner. What could Lady Catherine's imaginings be? Was she, Elizabeth, supposed to have dragged her precious nephew through Rosings Park by his ear, forcing him into the house? The lady's reflections of his being injured by her suspicions gnawed at Elizabeth's resolve to stay dignified. It truly enticed one's audacity.

"If you believed it impossible to be true," said she, colouring with disdain, "I wonder you took the trouble asking me."

"Miss Bennet, I insist upon having such a report universally contradicted, at once," stormed her ladyship.

"If, indeed, such a report is in existence then your calling me would be rather a confirmation of it"

"If? Do you pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourself? Do you not know that such a report is spread around?"

"I never did and I never heard that it was. I presume it circulates only in Mr. Collin's head, my lady."

"This is not to be borne! Miss Bennet, I am not accustomed to such language as this. I insist on being satisfied. What have you done to him? Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of any kind?"

An offer of any kind? Any kind? Which kind of proposal might it be that Mr. Darcy had to offer a girl like herself? By now, Elizabeth was as vexed as Lady Catherine and obstinacy reared its head.

"I am not in the habit of receiving offers of 'any kind' from any gentleman, my lady. If you ask, however, if I received an offer of marriage, I bring to mind that your ladyship has declared it to be impossible."

"It ought to be so. It must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You have drawn him in."

"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it."

"Impertinent girl, do you know who I am? I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world and I am entitled to know all his nearest concerns."

"But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behaviour as yours ever induce me to be explicit."

"I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence! Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now, what have you to say?"

Ere Elizabeth could form an answer, the latch of the door snapped into place with a sharp click and the object of their discussion stood there observing them, maybe already for a considerable time. Regretting instantly to have let Lady Catherine in the dark about her real opinion on the matter, Elizabeth dared not uplift her eyes. Here she was, quarrelling with a woman over a man who had witnessed all of it. Her shame was severe. The two women sat in silent agitation.

At an indolent pace, Mr. Darcy strolled nearer until he stopped by one of the settees in front of Elizabeth, who had leaped up in confusion wishing the floor would swallow her. She curtseyed. His gaze trailed from her averted eyes and blushing silence to Lady Catherine's face that left him in no doubt of her desire to get rid of him.

Her ladyship, even more irritated, said, "What is it, nephew, I have an important matter to discuss with Miss Bennet," she toned, her voice several degrees lower but impatient all the while.

"This is obvious, dear aunt, but pardon me as you are discussing me may I be of help?" he answered unperturbed and after saying calmly, "Good day, Miss Bennet," he waited for Elizabeth to be seated again.

But Elizabeth, despite her confusion not forgetting her manners, answered his civility with another short curtsey. Struggling to curb a fit of nervous giggles at the absurdity of the situation, she decided to end the spectacle. She was not willing to discuss the man with his aunt -- and in his presence! It was highly improper. Standing rigid, she addressed Lady Catherine thus,

"Allow me to say, milady, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary conversation have been as frivolous as your accusations are unfounded. You have widely mistaken my character if you think you can persuade me with such accusations as these. I have no wish to humble myself in discussing this further. You will excuse me."

She headed for the door but Lady Catherine's voice lashed behind her. "You are lying, Miss Bennet, you are scheming little baggage! Do not believe your deception will go unnoticed. I shall know how to act."

The rude comment left Elizabeth and the nephew speechless. Both stared at the lady, rooted to the spot. Noticing that his aunt's temper was beyond measure and the situation had already gone farther than civility allowed, Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth back to the chair, into which she sunk with wobbly knees and in a trembling rage. Little did she know what there was more to come.

Mr. Darcy faced his aunt.

"May I ask what this is all about, Lady Catherine? First, I stumble, this morning, over your fawning servant Mr. Collins who delighted me with a very edifying sermon and then I observe Miss Bennet's untimely appearance at three o'clock in the afternoon, which is always the time for your holy nap. Now, I witness outrage and insult against your guest. As I presume that all of it concerns my humble person, please enlighten me as to the significance of this... charade."

Elizabeth was convinced that he knew exactly what was concocted. His aunt's bosom heaved. Her eyes spat venom at Elizabeth and resolving on directness, she shouted,

"Darcy, I can imagine what arts and allurements Miss Bennet may have directed at you. Though I fear that it has made you forget what you owe to your name and to your family, be not afraid, I am wholly prepared to pardon your aberration for once. I strongly advise you to answer my question: Did you make Miss Bennet an offer of marriage?"

Elizabeth cringed at Lady Catherine's shifting from the topic of 'any kind' to 'marriage'. Even the lady dared not openly accuse her nephew to his face of philandering. Though his colour rose, the gentlemen looked at his aunt with a bland mien that marked his lack of surprise, then at Elizabeth who, painfully blushing, found much to be interested in her folded hands.

"No, I have not," he answered coolly. "And there were no 'arts and allurements' on Miss Bennet's part, mind you."

"And will you promise me, never to enter in such an engagement?" asked the Lady, disregarding his hint on Miss Bennet's innocence.

"No, I will make no promise of the kind."

Both women stared at him in disbelief, both for very different reasons.

"Are you mad, nephew?" cried her ladyship, "you are engaged to Anne."

"No, I am not. It was never my wish nor Anne's. I should have made myself clear long ago. For this, I apologize. However, my choice in the matter is not for you to decide. I am determined to marry where my sentiments lay without reference to you or any other person. I am heartily sorry to pain you, aunt, but so it is."

"It is not to be borne," cried she. "I admit that the engagement between you and Anne is of a peculiar kind. However, from your infancy on you have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of your mother as well as mine. While in your cradles, we planned the union. You are from a respectable, honourable, and ancient family and therefore destined for Anne by the voice of every member of our respective houses. And what shall it thwart now when our wishes are to be accomplished in your marriage? Shall it be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world and wholly unallied to the family? Do you pay no regard to the wishes of us all? Are you so lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say from your earliest hours that you are destined for your cousin?"

With each item she uttered, her walking stick smacked the floor but her words could have been a polite discourse over the weather so much they affected her nephew's equilibrium.

"Please, do me the honour and refrain from insulting Miss Bennet, milady. -- Yes, I have heard it before, but what is it to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying where I wish, certainly nothing shall me keep from it by knowing that my mother and aunt wished me to marry my cousin. You both did as much as you could in planning the union; its completion depends on me. I feel myself neither by honour nor inclination confined to my cousin, so why can I not make another choice. And if Miss Bennet is that choice, why not ask her?"

Elizabeth sat in shock. -- She, the wife of Mr. Darcy! Fancy that! Fleetingly, she thought to leave the room but as she seemed glued to the chair, running away was not an option. Strangely spellbound, she followed the spectacle. Mr. Darcy's self-control amazed her in view of the subject in discussion. Lady Catherine berating her darling nephew was indeed a sight to be seen and Elizabeth stored it in her mind for later perusal. Being in an odd way fascinated with this peculiar conversation, she felt in her bosom perverse emotions growing that defied all rational explanation.

His aunt stormed unabated.

"Because honour, decorum, prudence -- nay, interest forbids it. Yes, Darcy, interest; for do not expect her to be noticed by your family or friends if you willfully act against the inclinations of us all. She will be censured, slighted and despised by every one connected with you. Your alliance will be a disgrace, her name will never even be mentioned by any of us."

"These would be heavy misfortunes," replied her nephew in mock defiance, "but who knows, as the husband of Miss Bennet, I would possibly have such extraordinary sources of happiness attached to my situation that I would, upon the whole, have no cause to repine."

Now, Elizabeth was convinced in earnest that her ears had failed her. She forgot all maidenly restraint and eyed Mr. Darcy sharply. Was he making fun of her with the intention of infuriating his aunt? He returned her look with unreadable gravity and she coloured even deeper. How strange that man was!

Lady Catherine, angry beyond measure, spat, "Obstinate, headstrong fool! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude? Is nothing due to me? If she were sensible of her own good, she would not wish to quit the sphere in which she has been brought up."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, mortified and believing herself to be in a nightmare. The conduct of both, aunt and nephew, began to disturb her acutely. Never in the whole of their acquaintance had Mr. Darcy acted so peculiar and his aunt so without all prudence. She jumped to her feet, determined to head for the door but Mr. Darcy was swiftly at her side and seized her arm while turning back to his aunt,

"In marrying me, she should not consider herself as quitting that sphere. She is a gentleman's daughter, I am a gentleman. So far we are equal."

"True. She is a gentleman's daughter but who is her mother, who are her uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition."

"Whatever their conditions may be, if I do not object to them, they can be nothing to you."

If Elizabeth had thought that her amazement had been at its highest level, now absolute stupor gripped her. Mr. Darcy defending her connections? Impossible! The situation was approaching absurdity. She marvelled at Lady Catherine's resilience. Both, she and her nephew, dowered with the same obstinacy, seemed to have forgotten her, though he did not let go of her arm. He should long have escorted her from the room to spare her such embarrassments but he had other ideas and she found not the power to withstand.

"You are, then, resolved to have her," toned his aunt.

He drew an impatient breath. "I have not said so. I am only resolved to act in a manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness without reference to you or to any other person."

"It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin yourself in the opinion of all your friends and make yourself the contempt of the world."

"Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude has any possible claim on me in the present instance. No principle of either would be violated if I married Miss Bennet. And with regard to the resentment of my family or the indignation of the world: If my marrying her excited the former, it would not give me one moment's concern and the world in general will have too much sense to join in the scorn. -- Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments. I leave Rosings tomorrow and shall not return until you have apologized to me -- and to Miss Bennet."

Having said as much, his humour was at an end. He bowed to his stunned aunt and led the equally stunned Elizabeth through the door.

"Darcy," cried her ladyship as the door was about to be shut, "I am most seriously displeased!"

Lady Catherine's last lament rang clearly out into the hallway as Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth left the room. One of the footmen lingering outside rushed hither to close the door. Elizabeth avoided looking into his stony face and was thankful that he withdrew immediately into the shadows again. She was highly flustered and struggled for composure; a prodigious task as Mr. Darcy watched her with something like compassion in his eyes. However, her sentiments must be made known.

"Sir, may I ask what you meant by that performance in there, by taking advantage of my person to defeat your aunt? I am not amused," she hissed.

If she had slapped his face, his consternation could not have been greater.

"Miss Bennet," he hissed back, glancing at the servant, "it was never my intention to take advantage of you. This is absurd; how can I convince you. -- We must have more privacy. Please follow me."

Without waiting for an answer, he whisked her down the stairs and into a sunny room; the library obviously, according to the books that covered the walls. There he opened one of the French doors and guided her to a stone bench on a tiled terrace on which she thankfully took a seat.

With a brief, "Please calm yourself, I will be with you in a moment," he went back to the library.

As Elizabeth could see that the terrace, surrounded by a stone banister, overlooked the groves. From there, she never had spotted this place as huge bushes concealed the area. A mild wind ruffled her hair and soothed her battered spirits. While she called her senses to order, she heard Mr. Darcy roaming about in the library, tinkling with glass. He returned with a goblet.

"Medicine," he said, "drink and you will soon feel better."

Elizabeth took the glass in which a golden liquid swayed. She sipped cautiously. Knowing it was highly improper for a lady to drink brandy at any time of the day, she was astonished at his offer. But strange circumstances require strange measures (or so they say) and the events of this afternoon were already beyond reproach, were not they? The brandy made her cough, sneeze and go warm inside. Meanwhile Mr. Darcy leaned against the banister in silent meditation, surveying the landscape as if in a world of his own. Elizabeth watched him and was amazed at his composure, his calmness easing her mind also. He had been aware of his aunt's intentions; his appearance in the drawing room could not account for anything else. She meditated, how much of his declarations in there were facts or pronounced in the spur of the moment to provoke his aunt. However, defend her, he did, did not he? Maybe he felt a tinge of guilt after the accusations she had charged him with yesterday. Was he not showing up in her life somewhat often these days?

Suddenly, he turned to her and said, "Gossip, Miss Bennet, can be very annoying. I should have considered it sooner. Please accept my apology for bringing you into such a turmoil."

Elizabeth's spirits were by now rallied quite tolerably but she had yet to digest the newest aspects of his behaviour, not to forget the abuses of his aunt.

"It is puzzling me, why your aunt believes any of this nonsense, all the more so as she is acquainted with our family's circumstances: 'Our estate entailed to the male line, five daughters without a dowry and never a governess, how very odd.'" she mimicked Lady Catherine. She shook her head in mock resentment and could not resist adding while she cast a sly look at him, "What wonder that my mother is keen to find respectable husbands for us, whatever her methods, do not you think?"

For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. Thinking about her mother surely had such an effect on him. As he began to pace the tiles, frowning heavily, he appeared like the Mr. Darcy she knew from Hertfordshire. Other observations would intrude but his voice snapped her out of her musings.

"Please believe me, Miss Bennet, the things I have mentioned to my aunt were not expressed to ridicule her. I meant them to be genuine in sense and spirit."

Seeing astonishment in her face, his colour heightened a fraction and he continued stiffly, "Why so surprised? You know, you are pretty and charming. I ... I am convinced that my cousin is quite taken with you. He was prodigiously disappointed for not finding you this morning for his leave-taking. You have made a conquest there. Were it not..." he checked himself and looked quite disconcerted into her blushing face. "But that is neither here nor there..."

Elizabeth was not able to answer this statement and her embarrassment provoked a hiccup. Mr. Darcy continued, glad that he had other matters to elaborate on, "When I consider my cousin Anne, though, I should have made myself clear years ago; the fault is mine. I see now that more than one person has been affected by my thoughtlessness and indifference. My aunt has disappointed hopes on that account, her daughter was held in suspense. Had I made my sentiments known earlier, by now she could be out in society and away from her mother's daunting influence." He sighed and shook his head sadly.

Mr. Darcy, admitting error, might have at any other time highly gratified Elizabeth but the brandy rendered her head slightly lofty and her mind languid. She was drifting into an ambivalent mood. As she examined his face, she thought she detected remorse in his eyes. Proud and repulsive as his manners were, she had never in the whole course of their acquaintance seen anything that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust, irreligious or immoral. Among his own connections, he was esteemed and valued and even Wickham had allowed him merit as a brother. Often she had heard him speak so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling. However, his conduct this very afternoon was so outlandish that it evaded all comprehension. Moreover, why did she feel that his words concerning her person were not so secondary as he made her believe? Would she welcome it? -- What a thought, the very essence of absurdity. Charlotte's persuasions and the lunatic hints of her husband must be infectious. Better be careful, otherwise she might come to believe such nonsense; would not that be a scheme!

Sensing she had been long silent, she took another sip and said, "I am delighted to hear that the gist of your words does not concern me personally. It suits me fine. Accept my thanks for your apology and for your defending me. If this was the case, your kindness was welcome -- and the medicine." She twinkled mischievously. "My only consolation in the affair is that you have a relation nearly as silly as mine. They deserve each other, don't you think."

A smile crept into his eyes as he looked at her, averting them he said, "Then we have something in common, Miss Bennet."

There were fleetingly handsome dimples coming in appearance. Why did he so often look away when smiling? She had never witnessed that he openly smiled at anybody, save Mr. Bingley and herself on some occasions. However, his dimples she had never witnessed. It would serve his likeability if they could be seen more often.

"And I am pleased that the unkind comments of my aunt and her abusive manner have not made you ill. You are full of courage. I hope, Mr. Collins will see reason, and not pester you with his stupid notions. Believe me, never would it have crossed my mind that a mere betrothal could set the imaginations of a human being on fire in such a way." He looked at her with an oddly searching expression she could not fathom.

Recalling Charlotte, she appealed to him on behalf of her friend. "Please, Sir, you must make peace with your aunt and bring things in order. The whole affair is not worth the entire riot and it might cause quite a stir if it reached Longbourn. Mr. Collins is a diligent letter writer when his conscience pinches him. You may imagine my family's curiosity. I would not wish to answer distressing questions."

Mr. Darcy blinked a couple of times but then assured her of his willingness to appease his aunt; but there was more on his mind.

"Miss Bennet, by meeting Mr. Collins this morning, I have foreseen what might occur and I was so bold as to order a carriage for you on the morrow with a female escort. Mrs. Tennant, my housekeeper, will bring you safely back to your aunt's house in London. The engagement of your sister is a welcome excuse, do not you think? It would be my honour and greatly relieve my conscience if you take the offered help. You may be aware that your staying here is not advisable under the circumstances and I cannot feel comfort in knowing that you travel by post."

Again, she was surprised at his thoughtfulness and as the remorse in his eyes seemed sincere, it left her with no other choice as to accept gracefully. Anyway, she longed to be with Jane. She finished the drink and, feeling slightly giddy, she scrambled to her feet with Mr. Darcy's aid. Why this induced him to smile again was unfathomable but his attitude eluded her nowadays. She sighed and secretly resolved to tread carefully; he was a person with a dual character and she could not figure out who was the real Mr. Darcy. In silence, he escorted her across the terrace where a hidden staircase led to a gravel path into the groves.

Elizabeth would not have been Elizabeth if any unpredictable fate got the better of her. However, as Mr. Darcy proposed to accompany her to the parsonage, she took his proffered arm and they went down the lane, she had to force herself not to skip a step now and then. Abashed at her own foolishness, she secretly scolded herself, struggling for composure. She avoided closer examination of her reason but as she cautiously smiled at him and he smiled back, she felt an odd sense of protection. For the first time, she got a glimpse of why Miss Bingley always clung to his arm ... It must be all that brandy.

They made their way to the parsonage in silence, each of them deep in their own thoughts. The loss of bonnet and coat left behind in the halls of Rosings had quite escaped her notice.

At the gate, the gentleman took the lady's hand. After holding it a moment longer than propriety would allow, his final bow came forward with an elegance that Elizabeth blushed all over with secret enjoyment at the reverence it conveyed. She marvelled if such grace was inborn or accomplished by practicing. On the other side, she could not imagine Mr. Darcy exercising reverential techniques, even in his own circle. He was not prone to obeisance and she secretly felt honoured even more for it. Looking up from kissing her fingertips, he smiled in such a fashion that those dimples showed again. She could do nothing but stare in mute fascination how they transformed his whole countenance from austere to boyishly handsome, highlighted by a row of beautiful teeth. Dazed, she tugged her hand from his, forgot to curtsey and hurried into the house, all the way thinking with bewilderment on the dire after-effects of drinking brandy.

Chapter 4 - A Man of Sense and Education

Posted on Tuesday, 5 October 2004

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?
- It is because he will not give himself the trouble.
Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 31

Charlotte awaited Elizabeth's return with impatient restlessness, every now and then looking out the window. Seeing her come home without coat and bonnet, her worst fears were answered: Lady Catherine had thrown her out! She hurried to the door before Elizabeth could pull the bell and drew her friend hastily into the parlour, hoping, her husband would be impeded in the garden or in his book room.

"Now?" she hissed, too irritated to bother with politeness, "where by all heavens is your bonnet and where is your coat? What have you done with it and why are you grinning?"

Elizabeth, flushed and surprised to have forgotten half of her attire, incredulously touched her head and laughed heartily. The state of her undress had never drawn her attention -- or Mr. Darcy's.

The merry shape of her countenance awakened Charlotte's suspicion.

"Lizzy, you are drunk!" she hissed, severely shocked.

"Just medicine, dear Charlotte, just medicine, so Mr. Darcy said," giggled her friend and then sobered sufficiently to give her a rough account of all that had occurred at Rosings: Lady Catherine had been very abusive, denouncing her as scheming little baggage with an eye on Mr. Darcy's fortune. Mr. Darcy had defended her, apologized for his aunt, and offered help in form of a brandy to pacify her nerves. Moreover, to allay his worries, he had proposed that she accept his carriage and a female escort on the morrow, which would take her safely back to London; his intent being to spare her the trouble that might arise from his aunt's ire in his absence. Nevertheless, nobody was to worry, he had promised to smooth her ladyship's ruffled feathers. "Maybe, he consents to marry his cousin," she sniggered. Then he had accompanied her to the parsonage and that was all. Therefore, time to pack her trunk.

Charlotte shook her head, relieved by the mention of Mr. Darcy but not quite satisfied and extremely puzzled. She was prevented, however, from further examinations as Maria entered the room followed by Margaret with the tea tray. All conversation must now return to mundane matters. Elizabeth devoured with appetite some muffins with her tea airily overlooking Charlotte's scrutiny.

Maria accepted Elizabeth's invitation to accompany her to London a week earlier. Matters of the heart were always very interesting and in the case of Mr. Bingley and Jane all the more so. She declared astonishment at the chance to travel with some 'acquaintance' of Mr. Darcy's who 'happened to be in the neighbourhood', and would give them an escort to London. Was it not very agreeable and practical to travel in style and comfort instead by post next week? An express was sent to Gracechurch Street to inform them about their early return thither and in all the uproar, Maria never got the notion why there was such an utter urgency to depart without even a thought of apologizing to Lady Catherine or take their leave at Rosings. Considering the bounty and magnificence of the formidable lady, she was sure that it was all with her ladyship's consent. Was she not all understanding, condescension and indulgence?

In the course of the afternoon, a servant from Rosings delivered Elizabeth's bonnet and cloak with compliments from Mr. Darcy. 'It is as good as may be expected', thought Elizabeth, 'had Lady Catherine come upon them, she might as well have them ripped to shreds.'

When she was in bed, though, thoughts intruded and put sleep off. Mr. Darcy's behaviour puzzled her mightily. She recapitulated the encounters with him since Netherfield: His steady friendship with Mr. Bingley whose sister's cumbersome fawning over him he had always tolerated with forbearance; his reticence and muteness in society; his reserve and disdain against people whom he thought not equal to himself. The Netherfield ball flashed into her mind and that she had never once asked herself why he had danced with her. At the time, any esteem of such honour had failed her. And later, after his and Mr. Bingley's leaving, their neighbours had found much to snigger and gloat about. Mr. Wickham ... no Mr. Wickham, she must leave out; that ground was too dangerous and needed closer examination.

No, Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not disposed to think too friendly of Mr. Darcy. No defence he had exerted on her behalf against his aunt could eliminate Elizabeth's deeply rooted distrust. His aim had been to chastise her ladyship and that was all. If some doubts niggled somewhere, she firmly put them out of her mind. Only for the sake of Jane, she had to take Mr. Darcy as he was, bizarre, unpleasant or otherwise. No amount of dimples must shake her resolve.

The two gentlemen left Rosings the next morning, and Mr. Collins, having laid in wait near the lodges to give them his parting obeisance, was able to bring home the pleasing intelligence of their appearing in very good health and in as tolerable spirits as could be expected after the melancholy scene so lately gone through at Rosings. To Rosings, he then hastened to console Lady Catherine and her daughter. There, he mentioned very cautiously the departure of the two young ladies so recently in his care, justifying their leaving with the betrothal of the elder sister and that they send their humble greetings with thanks for the extraordinary hospitableness received at Rosings. If he thereby omitted any hint as to in what manner they left the parsonage, it was only slipping his mind. Lady Catherine received his declarations in silent disdain and Miss de Bourgh's attention was distracted elsewhere.

Elizabeth was sorry for leaving Charlotte under such doubtable circumstances and felt guilty without knowing why. Was not she a victim of events that to prevent had not been in her power? Blameworthy as she was in the eyes of Lady Catherine, she also was at fault in the eyes of Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy's conduct had not yet ceased to be a miracle to her and would not do so for a length of time. She took comfort from the thought that she would soon be with Jane. It was gratifying for Elizabeth that she was set free from Mr. Collins's sermons as his wife had clearly stated that the whole confusion was his own doing. Mr. Darcy's conduct represented a difficult challenge as it clashed with his duties to Lady Catherine. To choose between them, evoked a pain not easy to define: The latter was his employer and the former the richer with more livings to provide. In addition to this, Mr. Darcy's heedfulness regarding his cousin Elizabeth and her safe departure puzzled him. Therefore, he needed quiet reflection that made him invisible for the time being.

Eventually they waited for the carriage to appear. The vehicle finally careening into sight turned out to be a chaise and four with two menservants adorning its magnificent lines. Maria was in raptures. Charlotte, with a very satisfied expression and a smug smile in Elizabeth's direction, gently admonished her sister not to ask too many silly questions and they went out to welcome the disembarking passenger.

The lady, a woman in her early fifties and remarkable elegant, introduced herself very amiably as Mrs. Tennant, housekeeper of the Darcy's residence in London, who was very glad to make their acquaintance, delighted of being able to take a turn about the countryside, and relishing the opportunity to have escaped for a day the 'dullness of her London existence'. A merry twinkle accompanied her speech and her affability was all they could wish for. The visitor accepted Mrs. Collin's invitation to take refreshments while the horses rested and the servants readied the chaise for their return.

Mrs. Tennant's vigorous disposition impressed Elizabeth and she wondered secretly whether Mr. Darcy could intimidate her. Mrs. Tennant was impressed by Elizabeth's lively beauty, making a secret vow to prickle her master with it; his express note to her yesterday had been all that was mysterious. Maria Lucas remained in awe of the guest for most of the time and when Mr. Collins materialized, the woman received his fawning obeisance with a skill that marked her as an expert in handling human beings in whatever shape they appeared.

Meanwhile Mrs. Tennant had become acquainted with the intelligence that the young ladies knew Mr. Darcy already since his sojourn to Hertfordshire and that their meeting in Kent was pure coincidence. Whether they then knew Mr. Bingley? Yes, and more than that, Mr. Bingley being the fiancé of Miss Bennet's sister. Mrs. Tennant heard it with astonishment and pleasure. Whether Miss Bennet's sister was as pretty as her sister? What, even prettier? How wonderful for Mr. Bingley, he being such an amiable man and the best friend of Mr. Darcy. The subject of their conversations at once shifted to that gentleman and his cordiality in providing the young ladies with a chaise and honour them with such a pleasant escort as Mrs. Tennant. Finding nothing uncommon in this, Mrs. Tennant emphasized that it showed but evidently the generosity of Mr. Darcy and his strong sense of responsibility towards his friends.

"And so it is always the way with him. All he can do for his friends is done in a moment. He never shirks duties, not that I knew of," she declared. "I have known him since he was four years old and I was a housemaid at Pemberley. He was always the most sweetest-tempered, generous-hearted boy in the world."

Elizabeth almost stared at Mrs. Tennant. Sweet-tempered? Generous-hearted? Mr. Darcy? How strange to be called one of his friends. Charlotte shot her a look of smug approval. Had she not known it all the time? Mrs. Tennant saw it all. Set loose in the praise of her master's virtues, she dwelled with energy on his many merits, which evoked delighted giggles from Miss Lucas. Mr. Collins hastened to confirm any statements of the smart lady with his own favourable assessment of Mr. Darcy's benevolence, which ended in praise of Lady Catherine for having such an outstanding nephew. The ladies smiled at such an allusion.

At length the chaise was pronounced ready; the trunks were fastened on, the parcels placed within. After an affectionate parting between the friends, Mr. Collins attended Elizabeth to the chaise and as they walked down the garden, he was commissioning her with his best respects to all her family, not forgetting his thanks for the kindness he had received at Longbourn in the winter and his compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, though unknown. Elizabeth was eager with her thanks and assurances of happiness. She had spent five weeks with great enjoyment and the pleasure of being with Charlotte and the kind attentions she had received must make her feel the obliged. She wholeheartedly could add that she firmly believed and rejoiced in his domestic comforts. Mr. Collins was gratified and in the end, unavoidably, Mrs. Tennant received a lengthy laudation for her generosity in chaperoning the two young ladies to London. She took it with good grace.

"Lizzy," cried Charlotte in the last moment before the door was then allowed to be shut, "you will write to me, all of it." Then, with much waving on both sides, the chaise drove off.

"Good gracious!" cried Maria, after a few moments of silence; "it seems but a day or two since we first came! And yet how many things have happened!"

"A great many indeed," said her companion with a sigh.

"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice! How much I shall have to tell!"

Elizabeth privately added, "And how much I shall have to conceal!

With four gorgeous horses pulling the springy chaise the journey promised to be comfortable, and Mrs. Tennant made herself snug for the time being to dwell on her most beloved topic, hereby addressing Elizabeth.

"Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth coloured, and said, "A little."

"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?"

"Yes, very handsome." More blushing.

"I am sure I know none so handsome or so kind, and such a considerate brother."

This was most extraordinary praise, opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good-tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention awakened, she longed to hear more but found it safer to take refuge in perusing the landscape.

"And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?" asked Maria.

"Oh, yes, the handsomest young lady that ever was seen and so accomplished! She plays and sings all day long.

"He is certainly a good brother," Elizabeth could not prevent herself from saying. Mrs. Tennant nodded and studied Elizabeth's face minutely.

"He is not much at home, though, visiting with friends and so on. If he would marry, she might see more of him but I do not know when that will be. I do not know, who is good enough for him."

Elizabeth, albeit embarrassed, could not help saying as airily as may be, "It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so." Though she wished to change the topic, secret curiosity gnawed at her in a most perverse fashion.

"I say no more than the truth and what everybody will say that knows him."

"There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in having such a master."

"Yes, madam, I know I am. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed, that they who are good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up; his father was an excellent man and his son will be just like him, just as affable to the poor."

Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Tennant could interest her on no other point. Sensing Elizabeth's irresoluteness, the lady obliged her.

"He is the best landlord, and the best master," said she, "that ever lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants what will not give him a good name. Some people call him proud but I am sure, I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men."

'In what an amiable light does this place him?' thought Elizabeth perplexed but was prevented from further contemplation as Maria piped,

"You see, Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy is a gentleman."

Elizabeth blushed fiercely, wishing Maria had held her tongue. Mrs. Tennant blinked, her keenest suspicions awakened.

"And so he is! Have you heard otherwise?"

After a moment's hesitation and recognising her slip of tongue, Maria stammered embarrassed, "Mr. Wickham..."

Instant enlightening hit the lively lady. "Ah ... Mr. Wickham. That explains it all. He has cast his spell over Hertfordshire, I see, presumably over all the young ladies there present. Much good it will do him, insufferable fiend. The idea, he could have been ordained at Kympton, fills every honest soul with disgust. He better is confined to the army. There he can perform his wild ways till they arrest him ... or drown him in the Thames."

At such a rash statement, Elizabeth and Maria stared aghast at the bristling speaker then at each other. This was invitation enough to relate all that was in Mrs. Tennant's power to relate and it was no favourable picture she presented. That he was the son of the late master's steward, they knew. That his father was a very nice, respectable man and a friend of the late Mr. Darcy, they had heard already from Mr. Wickham himself. The late Mr. Darcy had been not only the godfather of his friend's son; he had been also very fond of this young man's society. Having had also the highest opinion of him, he had bestowed his kindness liberally, supporting him at school and afterwards at Cambridge. Most important assistance, as Mr. Wickham's father would not have been able to give him a gentleman's education, since he was always poor from the extravagances of his wife.

"The late Mr. Darcy hoped the church would be his profession and had bequeathed him a valuable living -- in combination with a generous sum, I think. We do not know how his conduct had been at school as our young master never has said anything about it but we have had our suspicions, as he had not seemed happy about it. As after his father's death the living became vacant, Wickham declined, requesting a higher sum in compensation for it. He thought to study the law -- ha! Mr. Darcy consented to the scheme, as he, and we all, knew that Wickham should not be ordained. The rascal vanished into thin air with what I believe an abundant sum but not without leaving many debts behind that Mr. Darcy settled also on his behalf." Then, a tone or two lower for Elizabeth ears only, "And he left some loose ends of a very peculiar nature, if you take my meaning."

These revelations rendered Elizabeth very pensive for a considerable time. Now the whole history presented by Mr. Wickham became an entirely different meaning and, if true, it robbed him wholly of his nimbus. How glad was Elizabeth now that she in the past had been prevented to reproach Mr. Darcy on that behalf. However, as Mrs. Tennant was not a person to dwell on grouchy themes, the rest of the journey was performed in high spirits and much lively conversation about the forthcoming nuptials of Jane and Mr. Bingley. He was well known to Mrs. Tennant, who recalled some funny encounters with him, including an unbelievable tale where he and Mr. Darcy had fallen into the pond at Pemberley -- in full attire! When he dwelled at Mr. Darcy's residence, he delighted in pursuing her at teatime wishing to avoid if possible the visits of his sisters to Miss Darcy. Mrs. Tennant, seeing in him a kindred soul, could say that she took great pleasure in hiding him. "And if Mr. Darcy opposes to the scheme, he never remarks on it as they mostly come together."

There was certainly, at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards Mr. Darcy than she had ever felt in the height of their acquaintance. Mrs. Tennant commendation was significant. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how he was responsible for the welfare of so many people under his guardianship. How much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow. How much of good or evil he must do. Every idea brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character. And his history with Mr. Wickham -- how dreadful! Elizabeth knew not what to think or how to account for it. She thought it very shrewd of Mr. Darcy to send them his own most devoted servant to the rescue. He carried some dangerous cards up his sleeve and was not to be trifled with.

Within four hours of their leaving Hunsford, they reached the Gardiner's house in good spirits. Jane, spying them from a first story window, flew down the steps eagerly followed by the Gardiner children. She looked radiant and never more beautiful and confident as now. Bliss added lustre to her eyes and lightness to her steps. The sisters hugged each other in heartfelt affection. The little cousins hopped around, eager with their welcome. Even Maria overcame her shyness and embraced Jane wishing her all the happiness in the world. Mrs. Tennant saw it with pleasure and remarked profusely on Jane's beauty. As she had to return to her duties, they said goodbye with many thanks for her agreeable company and for the trouble of chaperoning them. Loaded with compliments to Mr. Darcy for his generous offer, she vanished into the bustle of London's traffic secure in the knowledge that they had exchanged invitations to tea hither and thither in some day's time.

Continued In Next Section