Pride and Prejudice
himself obliged to accept.
Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her sister; for
while he was present Jane had no attention to bestow on anyone else: but
she found herself considerably useful to both of them, in those hours of
separation that must sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always
attached himself to Elizabeth for the pleasure of talking of her; and
when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means of relief.
“He has made me so happy,” said she, one evening, “by telling me that he
was totally ignorant of my being in town last spring! I had not believed
it possible.”
“I suspected as much,” replied Elizabeth. “But how did he account for
it?”
“It must have been his sisters’ doing. They were certainly no friends to
his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at, since he might have
chosen so much more advantageously in many respects. But when they see,
as I trust they will, that their brother is happy with me, they will
learn to be contented, and we shall be on good terms again: though we
can never be what we once were to each other.”
“That is the most unforgiving speech,” said Elizabeth, “that I ever
heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you again
the dupe of Miss Bingley’s pretended regard.”
“Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last November he
really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of _my_ being indifferent
would have prevented his coming down again?”
“He made a little mistake, to be sure; but it is to the credit of his
modesty.”
This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his diffidence, and
the little value he put on his own good qualities.
Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not betrayed the interference
of his friend; for, though Jane had the most generous and forgiving
heart in the world, she knew it was a circumstance which must prejudice
her against him.
“I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!” cried
Jane. “Oh, Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family, and blessed
above them all? If I could but see you as happy! If there were but such
another man for you!”
“If you were to give me forty such men I never could be so happy as you.
Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your
happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very
good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.”
The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be long a
secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to Mrs. Philips, and
she ventured, without any permission, to do the same by all her
neighbours in Meryton.
The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family in the
world; though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had first run away,
they had been generally proved to be marked out for misfortune.
CHAPTER LVI.
One morning, about a week after Bingley’s engagement with Jane had been
formed, as he and the females of the family were sitting together in the
dining-room, their attention was suddenly drawn to the window by the
sound of a carriage; and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the
lawn. It was too early in the morning for visitors; and besides, the
equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours. The horses
were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery of the servant who
preceded it, were familiar to them. As it was certain, however, that
somebody was coming, Bingley instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid
the confinement of such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the
shrubbery. They both set off; and the conjectures of the remaining three
continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was thrown
open, and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
They were of course all intending to be surprised: but their
astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of Mrs.
Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to them, even
inferior to what Elizabeth felt.
She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious, made no
other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the
head, and sat down without saying a word. Elizabeth had mentioned her
name to her mother on her Ladyship’s entrance, though no request of
introduction had been made.
Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a guest of such
high importance, received her with the utmost politeness. After sitting
for a moment in silence, she said, very stiffly, to Elizabeth,--
“I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose, is your
mother?”
Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.
“And _that_, I suppose, is one of your sisters?”
“Yes, madam,” said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady Catherine.
“She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of all is lately married,
and my eldest is somewhere about the ground, walking with a young man,
who, I believe, will soon become a part of the family.”
“You have a very small park here,” returned Lady Catherine, after a
short silence.
“It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my Lady, I dare say; but, I
assure you, it is much larger than Sir William Lucas’s.”
“This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for the evening in
summer: the windows are full west.”
Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner; and then
added,--
“May I take the liberty of asking your Ladyship whether you left Mr. and
Mrs. Collins well?”
“Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last.”
Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for her from
Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for her calling. But no
letter appeared, and she was completely puzzled.
Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her Ladyship to take some
refreshment: but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not very politely,
declined eating anything; and then, rising up, said to Elizabeth,--
“Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little wilderness
on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take a turn in it, if you
will favour me with your company.”
“Go, my dear,” cried her mother, “and show her Ladyship about the
different walks. I think she will be pleased with the hermitage.”
Elizabeth obeyed; and, running into her own room for her parasol,
attended her noble guest downstairs. As they passed through the hall,
Lady Catherine opened the doors into the dining-parlour and
drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a short survey, to be
decent-looking rooms, walked on.
Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her
waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the gravel walk
that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to make no effort for
conversation with a woman who was now more than usually insolent and
disagreeable.
“How could I ever think her like her nephew?” said she, as she looked in
her face.
As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the following
manner:--
“You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my
journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I
come.”
Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.
“Indeed, you are mistaken, madam; I have not been at all able to account
for the honour of seeing you here.”
“Miss Bennet,” replied her Ladyship, in an angry tone, “you ought to
know that I am not to be trifled with. But 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 of such
moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it. A report of a most
alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told, that not only your
sister was on the point of being most advantageously married, but that
_you_--that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon
afterwards united to my nephew--my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I
_know_ it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him
so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on
setting off for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to
you.”
“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, colouring
with astonishment and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming
so far. What could your Ladyship propose by it?”
“At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”
“Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,” said Elizabeth
coolly, “will be rather a confirmation of it--if, indeed, such a report
is in existence.”
“If! do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been
industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a
report is spread abroad?”
“I never heard that it was.”
“And can you likewise declare, that there is no _foundation_ for it?”
“I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your Ladyship. _You_
may ask questions which _I_ shall not choose to answer.”
“This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has
he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?”
“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
may have drawn him in.”
“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”
“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such
language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world,
and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.”
“But you are not entitled to know _mine_; nor will such behaviour as
this ever induce me to be explicit.”
“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?”
“Only this,--that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will
make an offer to me.”
Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied,--
“The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy,
they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of
_his_ mother, as well as of hers. While in their cradles we planned the
union; and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be
accomplished, is their marriage to 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 his friends--to his
tacit engagement with Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of
propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say, that from his
earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”
“Yes; and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no
other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be
kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry
Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the
marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by
honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make
another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?”
“Because honour, decorum, prudence--nay, interest--forbid it. Yes, Miss
Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by his family or
friends, if you wilfully act against the inclinations of all. You will
be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him.
Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned
by any of us.”