Pride and Prejudice
“These are heavy misfortunes,” replied Elizabeth. “But the wife of Mr.
Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily
attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause
to repine.”
“Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude
for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that
score? Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came
here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I
be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s
whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”
“_That_ will make your Ladyship’s situation at present more pitiable;
but it will have no effect on _me_.”
“I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence. My daughter and my
nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal
side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable,
honourable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Their fortune on
both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of
every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide
them?--the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family,
connections, or fortune! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall
not be! If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to
quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.”
“In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that
sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter; so far we are
equal.”
“True. You _are_ a gentleman’s daughter. But what was your mother? Who
are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their
condition.”
“Whatever my connections may be,” said Elizabeth, “if your nephew does
not object to them, they can be nothing to _you_.”
“Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?”
Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady
Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but say, after a
moment’s deliberation,--
“I am not.”
Lady Catherine seemed pleased.
“And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?”
“I will make no promise of the kind.”
“Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a more
reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a belief that I
will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given me the
assurance I require.”
“And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be intimidated into
anything so wholly unreasonable. Your Ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry
your daughter; but would my giving you the wished-for promise make
_their_ marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to
me, would _my_ refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on
his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with
which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as
frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my
character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these.
How far your nephew might approve of your interference in _his_ affairs,
I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in
mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no further on the
subject.”
“Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all the
objections I have already urged I have still another to add. I am no
stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous
elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a
patched-up business, at the expense of your father and uncle. And is
_such_ a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Is _her_ husband, who is the son
of his late father’s steward, to be his brother? Heaven and earth!--of
what are you thinking? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”
“You can _now_ have nothing further to say,” she resentfully answered.
“You have insulted me, in every possible method. I must beg to return to
the house.”
And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they turned
back. Her Ladyship was highly incensed.
“You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my nephew!
Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that a connection with you
must disgrace him in the eyes of everybody?”
“Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say. You know my sentiments.”
“You are then resolved to have him?”
“I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner,
which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without
reference to _you_, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”
“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 him in
the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the world.”
“Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude,” replied Elizabeth, “has any
possible claim on me, in the present instance. No principle of either
would be violated by my marriage with Mr. Darcy. And with regard to the
resentment of his family, or the indignation of the world, if the former
_were_ excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s
concern--and the world in general would have too much sense to join in
the scorn.”
“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well. I
shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet, that your
ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped to find you
reasonable; but depend upon it I will carry my point.”
In this manner Lady Catherine talked on till they were at the door of
the carriage, when, turning hastily round, she added,--
“I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your
mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”
Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her
Ladyship to return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She
heard the carriage drive away as she proceeded upstairs. Her mother
impatiently met her at the door of her dressing-room, to ask why Lady
Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.
“She did not choose it,” said her daughter; “she would go.”
“She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously
civil! for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well.
She is on her road somewhere, I dare say; and so, passing through
Meryton, thought she might as well call on you. I suppose she had
nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth was forced to give in to a little falsehood here; for to
acknowledge the substance of their conversation was impossible.
CHAPTER LVII.
The discomposure of spirits which this extraordinary visit threw
Elizabeth into could not be easily overcome; nor could she for many
hours learn to think of it less than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it
appeared, had actually taken the trouble of this journey from Rosings
for the sole purpose of breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr.
Darcy. It was a rational scheme, to be sure! but from what the report of
their engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine;
till she recollected that _his_ being the intimate friend of Bingley,
and _her_ being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a time when the
expectation of one wedding made everybody eager for another, to supply
the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel that the marriage of her
sister must bring them more frequently together. And her neighbours at
Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for through their communication with the
Collinses, the report, she concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had
only set _that_ down as almost certain and immediate which _she_ had
looked forward to as possible at some future time.
In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however, she could not help
feeling some uneasiness as to the possible consequence of her persisting
in this interference. From what she had said of her resolution to
prevent the marriage, it occurred to Elizabeth that she must meditate an
application to her nephew; and how he might take a similar
representation of the evils attached to a connection with her she dared
not pronounce. She knew not the exact degree of his affection for his
aunt, or his dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose
that he thought much higher of her Ladyship than _she_ could do; and it
was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with _one_
whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own, his aunt would
address him on his weakest side. With his notions of dignity, he would
probably feel that the arguments, which to Elizabeth had appeared weak
and ridiculous, contained much good sense and solid reasoning.
If he had been wavering before, as to what he should do, which had often
seemed likely, the advice and entreaty of so near a relation might
settle every doubt, and determine him at once to be as happy as dignity
unblemished could make him. In that case he would return no more. Lady
Catherine might see him in her way through town; and his engagement to
Bingley of coming again to Netherfield must give way.
“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his promise should come to his
friend within a few days,” she added, “I shall know how to understand
it. I shall then give over every expectation, every wish of his
constancy. If he is satisfied with only regretting me, when he might
have obtained my affections and hand, I shall soon cease to regret him
at all.”
The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing who their visitor had
been, was very great: but they obligingly satisfied it with the same
kind of supposition which had appeased Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and
Elizabeth was spared from much teasing on the subject.
The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she was met by her
father, who came out of his library with a letter in his hand.
“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you: come into my room.”
She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know what he had to tell
her was heightened by the supposition of its being in some manner
connected with the letter he held. It suddenly struck her that it might
be from Lady Catherine, and she anticipated with dismay all the
consequent explanations.
She followed her father to the fireplace, and they both sat down. He
then said,--
“I have received a letter this morning that has astonished me
exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you ought to know its
contents. I did not know before that I had _two_ daughters on the brink
of matrimony. Let me congratulate you on a very important conquest.”
The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in the instantaneous
conviction of its being a letter from the nephew, instead of the aunt;
and she was undetermined whether most to be pleased that he explained
himself at all, or offended that his letter was not rather addressed to
herself, when her father continued,--
“You look conscious. Young ladies have great penetration in such matters
as these; but I think I may defy even _your_ sagacity to discover the
name of your admirer. This letter is from Mr. Collins.”
“From Mr. Collins! and what can _he_ have to say?”
“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He begins with
congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my eldest daughter, of
which, it seems, he has been told by some of the good-natured, gossiping
Lucases. I shall not sport with your impatience by reading what he says
on that point. What relates to yourself is as follows:--‘Having thus
offered you the sincere congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on
this happy event, let me now add a short hint on the subject of another,