PRIDE & PREJUDICE: JANE AUSTEN: CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

Wickham stopped provoking Elizabeth and she was pleased that she had said enough to keep him quiet.

The day of departure of Lydia and Wickham.

"Oh! My dear Lydia," cried Mrs Bennet, "when shall we meet again?"

"Oh, lord! I don't know. Not these two or three years, perhaps.

Write to me often, my dear."

"As often as I can.  But you know married women have never very much time for writing.  My sisters may write to me.  They will have nothing else to do."

Wickham's adieus were much more affectionate than his wife's.  He smiled, looked handsome, and said many pretty things.

"He is a fine fellow," said Mr Bennet as soon as they were out of the house, "as ever I saw.  He simpers and smirks and makes love to all of us.  I am prodigiously proud of him.  I defy even Sir William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law."

The loss of her daughter made Mrs Bennet very dull for several days.

"I often think," said she, "that there is nothing bad as parting with one's friends.  One sees so forlorn without them." 

"This is the consequence, you see, Madam, of marrying a daughter," said Elizabeth.  "I must see you better satisfied that your other four are single."

"It is not such thing.  Lydia does not leave me because she is married, but only her husband's regiment happens to be so far off.  If it had been nearer, she would not have gone so soon."

But the spiritless condition which this event threw her into was shortly relieved, and her mind opened again to the agitation of hope, by an article of news which then began to be in circulation.  The housekeeper at Netherfield had received orders to prepare for the arrival of her master, who was coming down in a day or two, to shoot there for several weeks. Mrs Bennet was quite in the fidgets.  She looked at Jane, and smiled and shook her head by turns.

"Well, well, and so Mr Bingley is coming down, sister (for Mrs Phillips first brought her the news) well, so much better.  Not that I care about it, though.  He is nothing to us, you know, and I am sure I never want to see him again.  But, however, he is very welcome to come to Netherfield, if he likes it.  And who knows what may happen? But that is nothing to us.  You know, sister, we agreed long ago never to mention a word about it. And so, is it certain he is coming?"

"You may depend upon it," replied the other, "for Mrs Nicholls was in Meryton last night; I saw her passing by, and went out myself to know the truth of it; and she told me that it was certain.  He comes down on Thursday the latest, very likely on Wednesday.  She was going to the butcher's, she told me, on purpose to order in some meat on Wednesday, and she has got three couple of ducks just fit to be killed."

Miss Bennet changed her colour.  It was many months since she had mentioned his name to Elizabeth.  As soon as they were alone together, she said:

"I saw you look at me today, Lizzy, when my aunt told us of the present report; and I know I appeared distressed.  But don't imagine it was from any silly cause.  I was only confused for the moment, because I felt that I should be looked at.  I do assure you that the news does not affect me either with pleasure or pain.  I am glad of one thing, that he comes alone; because we shall see the less of him.  Not that I am afraid of myself, but I dread other people's remarks."

Elizabeth did not know what to make of it.  Had she not seen him in Derbyshire, she might have supposed him capable of coming there with no other view than what was acknowledged; but she thought him still partial to Jane, and she wavered as to the greater probability of his coming there with his friend's permission or being bold enough to come without it.

However, the subject was now brought forward again.

"As soon as ever Mr Bingley comes, my dear," said Mrs Bennet, "you will wait on him of course."

"No, no," said Mr Bennet, "You forced me into visiting him last year, but it ended in nothing. And now you are sending me on a fool's errand again."

His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an attention from all the neighbours.

"It's an etiquette I despise," said he.

"If he wants our society let him seek it.  He knows where we live.  I will not spend my hours in running after my neighbours every time they go away and come back again."

"Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do not wait on him.  But, however, that shan't prevent my asking him to dine here, I am determined.  We must have Mrs Long and the Gouldings soon.  That will make thirteen with ourselves, so there will be just room at table for him."

Consoled by this resolution, she was able to bear her husband's incivility; though it was mortifying to know that her neighbours might all see Mr Bingley.  

As the day of the arrival drew near:

"I begin to be sorry that he comes at all," said Jane to her sister.  "It could be nothing; I could see him with perfect indifference; but I can hardly bear to hear it perpetually talked of.  My mother means well; but she does not know, no one can know, how much I suffer from what she says. Happy shall I be, when his stay at Netherfield is over!"

"I wish I could say anything to comfort you," replied Elizabeth, "but it is wholly out of my power.  You must feel it; the usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a sufferer is denied to me."

Mr Bingley arrived.  Mrs Bennet, through the servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it.  She counted the days before their invitation could be sent.  On the third morning after his arrival in Hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressing-room window enter the paddock and ride towards the house.

Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy.  Jane resolutely kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to satisfy her mother, went to the window - she looked - she saw Mr Darcy with him, and sat down again by her sister.

"There is a gentleman with him, mama," said Kitty, "who can it be?"

"Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I do not know."

"La!" replied Kitty, "It looks just like that man that used to be with him before.  Mr what's his name.  That tall proud man."

"Good gracious! Mr Darcy! --- and so it does, I vow.  Well, any friend of Mr Bingley will always be welcome here, to be sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him."

Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern.  She knew but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt the awkwardness which must attend her sister, in seeing him almost for the first time after seeing his explanatory letter.  Both sisters were uncomfortable; their mother talked on, of her dislike of Mr Darcy, and her resolution to be civil to him only because of Mr Bingley.  Elizabeth was uneasy that she had not shared the intelligence she received from Mrs Gardiner.  Jane knew that the whole family is indebted to him.

They were received by Mrs Bennet with civility.  Darcy, after inquiring of her how Mr and Mrs Gardiner did, which she could not answer without confusion, scarcely said anything.

Elizabeth inquired after her sister, but could do no more.

"It is a long time, Mr Bingley, since you went away," said Mrs Bennet.

He readily agreed to it.

"I was afraid, you would never come back again.  People did say you meant to quit the place, but I hope, it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighborhood, since you went away.  Miss Lucas is married and settled.  And one of my own daughters.  I suppose you have heard of it, indeed, you must have seen in the papers.  It was in The Times and The Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be.  It was only said, 'Lately George Wickham Esq. to Lydia Bennet' without being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything.  It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it.  Did you see it?"

Bingley replied that he did, and congratulated.  Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes.  How Mr Darcy looked, therefore, she could not tell.

"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married," continued her mother, "but at the same time Mr Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me.  They went down to Newcastle, a place quite northward and stayed there for long.  Thank Heaven! he has some friends, but not many."

Elizabeth knew that her mother moving toward Darcy, and to put a break to her speech, asked Mr Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at present. A few weeks, he believed.

"When you have killed your own birds, Mr Bingley," said her mother, "I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please on Mr Bennet's manor.  I am sure he will be happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you."

Elizabeth's misery increased at such unnecessary and domineering way.  But she was pleased when she observed how much the beauty of her sister re-kindled the admiraton of Mr Bingley.  When he first came in he had spoken to her but little; but every five minutes seemed to be giving her more of his attention.  He found her as handsome as she had been last year.  Jane was anxious that no difference should be perceived at all in her.  But her mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was silent. 

When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs Bennet was mindful of her intended civility, and they were invited to dine at Longbourn in a few days time.

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr Bingley," she added, "for when you went to the town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us as soon as you returned.  I have not forgot, you see, and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement." 

Bingley looked little silly at this reflection, and said something of his concern at having been prevented by business.  They then went away.

Mrs Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and dine there that day; but though she always kept very good table, she did not think anything less than two courses could be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious design, or satisfy appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a year.

THE END