Pride and Prejudice
particularly like your way of getting husbands.”
Their visitors were not to remain above ten days with them. Mr. Wickham
had received his commission before he left London, and he was to join
his regiment at the end of a fortnight.
No one but Mrs. Bennet regretted that their stay would be so short; and
she made the most of the time by visiting about with her daughter, and
having very frequent parties at home. These parties were acceptable to
all; to avoid a family circle was even more desirable to such as did
think than such as did not.
Wickham’s affection for Lydia was just what Elizabeth had expected to
find it; not equal to Lydia’s for him. She had scarcely needed her
present observation to be satisfied, from the reason of things, that
their elopement had been brought on by the strength of her love rather
than by his; and she would have wondered why, without violently caring
for her, he chose to elope with her at all, had she not felt certain
that his flight was rendered necessary by distress of circumstances; and
if that were the case, he was not the young man to resist an opportunity
of having a companion.
Lydia was exceedingly fond of him. He was her dear Wickham on every
occasion; no one was to be put in competition with him. He did
everything best in the world; and she was sure he would kill more birds
on the first of September than anybody else in the country.
One morning, soon after their arrival, as she was sitting with her two
elder sisters, she said to Elizabeth,--
“Lizzy, I never gave _you_ an account of my wedding, I believe. You were
not by, when I told mamma, and the others, all about it. Are not you
curious to hear how it was managed?”
“No, really,” replied Elizabeth; “I think there cannot be too little
said on the subject.”
“La! You are so strange! But I must tell you how it went off. We were
married, you know, at St. Clement’s, because Wickham’s lodgings were in
that parish. And it was settled that we should all be there by eleven
o’clock. My uncle and aunt and I were to go together; and the others
were to meet us at the church.
“Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid,
you know, that something would happen to put it off, and then I should
have gone quite distracted. And there was my aunt, all the time I was
dressing, preaching and talking away just as if she was reading a
sermon. However, I did not hear above one word in ten, for I was
thinking, you may suppose, of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether
he would be married in his blue coat.
“Well, and so we breakfasted at ten as usual: I thought it would never
be over; for, by the bye, you are to understand that my uncle and aunt
were horrid unpleasant all the time I was with them. If you’ll believe
me, I did not once put my foot out of doors, though I was there a
fortnight. Not one party, or scheme, or anything! To be sure, London was
rather thin, but, however, the Little Theatre was open.
“Well, and so, just as the carriage came to the door, my uncle was
called away upon business to that horrid man Mr. Stone. And then, you
know, when once they get together, there is no end of it. Well, I was so
frightened I did not know what to do, for my uncle was to give me away;
and if we were beyond the hour we could not be married all day. But,
luckily, he came back again in ten minutes’ time, and then we all set
out. However, I recollected afterwards, that if he _had_ been prevented
going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr. Darcy might have done as
well.”
“Mr. Darcy!” repeated Elizabeth, in utter amazement.
“Oh, yes! he was to come there with Wickham, you know. But, gracious me!
I quite forgot! I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised
them so faithfully! What will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret!”
“If it was to be a secret,” said Jane, “say not another word on the
subject. You may depend upon my seeking no further.”
“Oh, certainly,” said Elizabeth, though burning with curiosity; “we will
ask you no questions.”
“Thank you,” said Lydia; “for if you did, I should certainly tell you
all, and then Wickham would be so angry.”
On such encouragement to ask, Elizabeth was forced to put it out of her
power, by running away.
But to live in ignorance on such a point was impossible; or at least it
was impossible not to try for information. Mr. Darcy had been at her
sister’s wedding. It was exactly a scene, and exactly among people,
where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go.
Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her
brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as
placing his conduct in the noblest light, seemed most improbable. She
could not bear such suspense; and hastily seizing a sheet of paper,
wrote a short letter to her aunt, to request an explanation of what
Lydia had dropped, if it were compatible with the secrecy which had been
intended.
“You may readily comprehend,” she added, “what my curiosity must be to
know how a person unconnected with any of us, and, comparatively
speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such
a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand it--unless it is,
for very cogent reasons, to remain in the secrecy which Lydia seems to
think necessary; and then I must endeavour to be satisfied with
ignorance.”
“Not that I _shall_, though,” she added to herself, and she finished the
letter; “and, my dear aunt, if you do not tell me in an honourable
manner, I shall certainly be reduced to tricks and stratagems to find it
out.”
Jane’s delicate sense of honour would not allow her to speak to
Elizabeth privately of what Lydia had let fall; Elizabeth was glad of
it:--till it appeared whether her inquiries would receive any
satisfaction, she had rather be without a confidante.
CHAPTER LII.
Elizabeth had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as
soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it, than
hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be
interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches, and prepared to be
happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not
contain a denial.
/* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Sept. 6_. */
“My dear Niece,
“I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole
morning to answering it, as I foresee that a _little_ writing will
not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself
surprised by your application; I did not expect it from _you_.
Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know,
that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on _your_
side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my
impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing
but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed
him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and
ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming
home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr.
Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all
over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked
as _yours_ seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he
had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he
had seen and talked with them both--Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once.
From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after
ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for
them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to
himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as
to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or
confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken
pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to
lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to
speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step
forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on
by himself. If he _had another_ motive, I am sure it would never
disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to
discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was
more than _we_ had; and the consciousness of this was another
reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a
Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was
dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though
he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street,
and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs.
Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he
went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But
it was two or three days before he could get from her what he
wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery
and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be
found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in
London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they
would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our
kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in ----
Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia.
His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade
her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her
friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her,
offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia
absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none
of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of
leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or
other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her
feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a
marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he
easily learnt had never been _his_ design. He confessed himself
obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour
which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill
consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to
resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation,
he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but
he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live
on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once.
Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have
been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been
benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question,
that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making
his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such
circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the
temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there
was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he
could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything
being settled between _them_, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make
your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch
Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not
be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father