Mrs. Gardiner’s caution to Elizabeth was punctually and kindly given on
the first favourable opportunity of speaking to her alone; after honestly
telling her what she thought, she thus went on:🔗
“You are too sensible a girl, Lizzy, to fall in love merely because you
are warned against it; and, therefore, I am not afraid of speaking openly.
Seriously, I would have you be on your guard. Do not involve yourself or
endeavour to involve him in an affection which the want of fortune would
make so very imprudent. I have nothing to say against him; he is a
most interesting young man; and if he had the fortune he ought to have, I
should think you could not do better. But as it is, you must not let your
fancy run away with you. You have sense, and we all expect you to use it.
Your father would depend on your resolution and good conduct, I am
sure. You must not disappoint your father.”🔗
“My dear aunt, this is being serious indeed.”🔗
“Yes, and I hope to engage you to be serious likewise.”🔗
“Well, then, you need not be under any alarm. I will take care of myself,
and of Mr. Wickham too. He shall not be in love with me, if I can prevent
it.”🔗
“Elizabeth, you are not serious now.”🔗
“I beg your pardon, I will try again. At present I am not in love with Mr.
Wickham; no, I certainly am not. But he is, beyond all comparison, the
most agreeable man I ever saw—and if he becomes really attached to
me—I believe it will be better that he should not. I see the
imprudence of it. Oh! that abominable Mr. Darcy! My father’s
opinion of me does me the greatest honour, and I should be miserable to
forfeit it. My father, however, is partial to Mr. Wickham. In short, my
dear aunt, I should be very sorry to be the means of making any of you
unhappy; but since we see every day that where there is affection, young
people are seldom withheld by immediate want of fortune from entering into
engagements with each other, how can I promise to be wiser than so many of
my fellow-creatures if I am tempted, or how am I even to know that it
would be wisdom to resist? All that I can promise you, therefore, is not
to be in a hurry. I will not be in a hurry to believe myself his first
object. When I am in company with him, I will not be wishing. In short, I
will do my best.”🔗
“Perhaps it will be as well if you discourage his coming here so very
often. At least, you should not remind your mother of inviting
him.”🔗
“As I did the other day,” said Elizabeth with a conscious smile: “very
true, it will be wise in me to refrain from that. But do not
imagine that he is always here so often. It is on your account that he has
been so frequently invited this week. You know my mother’s ideas as to the
necessity of constant company for her friends. But really, and upon my
honour, I will try to do what I think to be the wisest; and now I hope you
are satisfied.”🔗
Her aunt assured her that she was, and Elizabeth having thanked her for
the kindness of her hints, they parted; a wonderful instance of advice
being given on such a point, without being resented.🔗
Mr. Collins returned into Hertfordshire soon after it had been quitted by
the Gardiners and Jane; but as he took up his abode with the Lucases, his
arrival was no great inconvenience to Mrs. Bennet. His marriage was now
fast approaching, and she was at length so far resigned as to think it
inevitable, and even repeatedly to say, in an ill-natured tone, that she “wished
they might be happy.” Thursday was to be the wedding day, and on Wednesday
Miss Lucas paid her farewell visit; and when she rose to take leave,
Elizabeth, ashamed of her mother’s ungracious and reluctant good wishes,
and sincerely affected herself, accompanied her out of the room. As they
went downstairs together, Charlotte said:🔗
“I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.”🔗
“That you certainly shall.”🔗
“And I have another favour to ask you. Will you come and see me?”🔗
“We shall often meet, I hope, in Hertfordshire.”🔗
“I am not likely to leave Kent for some time. Promise me, therefore, to
come to Hunsford.”🔗
Elizabeth could not refuse, though she foresaw little pleasure in the
visit.🔗
“My father and Maria are coming to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and I
hope you will consent to be of the party. Indeed, Eliza, you will be as
welcome as either of them.”🔗
The wedding took place; the bride and bridegroom set off for Kent from the
church door, and everybody had as much to say, or to hear, on the subject
as usual. Elizabeth soon heard from her friend; and their correspondence
was as regular and frequent as it had ever been; that it should be equally
unreserved was impossible. Elizabeth could never address her without
feeling that all the comfort of intimacy was over, and though determined
not to slacken as a correspondent, it was for the sake of what had been,
rather than what was. Charlotte’s first letters were received with a good
deal of eagerness; there could not but be curiosity to know how she would
speak of her new home, how she would like Lady Catherine, and how happy
she would dare pronounce herself to be; though, when the letters were
read, Elizabeth felt that Charlotte expressed herself on every point
exactly as she might have foreseen. She wrote cheerfully, seemed
surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which she could not
praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and roads, were all to her
taste, and Lady Catherine’s behaviour was most friendly and obliging. It
was Mr. Collins’s picture of Hunsford and Rosings rationally softened; and
Elizabeth perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the
rest.🔗
Jane had already written a few lines to her sister to announce their safe
arrival in London; and when she wrote again, Elizabeth hoped it would be
in her power to say something of the Bingleys.🔗
Her impatience for this second letter was as well rewarded as impatience
generally is. Jane had been a week in town without either seeing or
hearing from Caroline. She accounted for it, however, by supposing that
her last letter to her friend from Longbourn had by some accident been
lost.🔗
“My aunt,” she continued, “is going to-morrow into that part of the town,
and I shall take the opportunity of calling in Grosvenor Street.”🔗
She wrote again when the visit was paid, and she had seen Miss Bingley. “I
did not think Caroline in spirits,” were her words, “but she was very glad
to see me, and reproached me for giving her no notice of my coming to
London. I was right, therefore, my last letter had never reached her. I
enquired after their brother, of course. He was well, but so much engaged
with Mr. Darcy that they scarcely ever saw him. I found that Miss Darcy
was expected to dinner. I wish I could see her. My visit was not long, as
Caroline and Mrs. Hurst were going out. I dare say I shall see them soon
here.”🔗
Elizabeth shook her head over this letter. It convinced her that accident
only could discover to Mr. Bingley her sister’s being in town.🔗
Four weeks passed away, and Jane saw nothing of him. She endeavoured to
persuade herself that she did not regret it; but she could no longer be
blind to Miss Bingley’s inattention. After waiting at home every morning
for a fortnight, and inventing every evening a fresh excuse for her, the
visitor did at last appear; but the shortness of her stay, and yet more,
the alteration of her manner would allow Jane to deceive herself no
longer. The letter which she wrote on this occasion to her sister will
prove what she felt.🔗
“My dearest Lizzy will, I am sure, be incapable of triumphing in her
better judgement, at my expense, when I confess myself to have been
entirely deceived in Miss Bingley’s regard for me. But, my dear sister,
though the event has proved you right, do not think me obstinate if I
still assert that, considering what her behaviour was, my confidence was
as natural as your suspicion. I do not at all comprehend her reason for
wishing to be intimate with me; but if the same circumstances were to
happen again, I am sure I should be deceived again. Caroline did not
return my visit till yesterday; and not a note, not a line, did I receive
in the meantime. When she did come, it was very evident that she had no
pleasure in it; she made a slight, formal apology, for not calling before,
said not a word of wishing to see me again, and was in every respect so
altered a creature, that when she went away I was perfectly resolved to
continue the acquaintance no longer. I pity, though I cannot help blaming
her. She was very wrong in singling me out as she did; I can safely say
that every advance to intimacy began on her side. But I pity her, because
she must feel that she has been acting wrong, and because I am very sure
that anxiety for her brother is the cause of it. I need not explain myself
farther; and though we know this anxiety to be quite needless, yet
if she feels it, it will easily account for her behaviour to me; and so
deservedly dear as he is to his sister, whatever anxiety she must feel on
his behalf is natural and amiable. I cannot but wonder, however, at her
having any such fears now, because, if he had at all cared about me, we
must have met, long ago. He knows of my being in town, I am certain, from
something she said herself; and yet it would seem, by her manner of
talking, as if she wanted to persuade herself that he is really partial to
Miss Darcy. I cannot understand it. If I were not afraid of judging
harshly, I should be almost tempted to say that there is a strong
appearance of duplicity in all this. But I will endeavour to banish every
painful thought, and think only of what will make me happy—your
affection, and the invariable kindness of my dear uncle and aunt. Let me
hear from you very soon. Miss Bingley said something of his never
returning to Netherfield again, of giving up the house, but not with any
certainty. We had better not mention it. I am extremely glad that you have
such pleasant accounts from our friends at Hunsford. Pray go to see them,
with Sir William and Maria. I am sure you will be very comfortable there.—Yours,
etc.”🔗
This letter gave Elizabeth some pain; but her spirits returned as she
considered that Jane would no longer be duped, by the sister at least. All
expectation from the brother was now absolutely over. She would not even
wish for a renewal of his attentions. His character sunk on every review
of it; and as a punishment for him, as well as a possible advantage to
Jane, she seriously hoped he might really soon marry Mr. Darcy’s sister,
as by Wickham’s account, she would make him abundantly regret what he had
thrown away.🔗
Mrs. Gardiner about this time reminded Elizabeth of her promise concerning
that gentleman, and required information; and Elizabeth had such to send
as might rather give contentment to her aunt than to herself. His apparent
partiality had subsided, his attentions were over, he was the admirer of
some one else. Elizabeth was watchful enough to see it all, but she could
see it and write of it without material pain. Her heart had been but
slightly touched, and her vanity was satisfied with believing that she
would have been his only choice, had fortune permitted it. The sudden
acquisition of ten thousand pounds was the most remarkable charm of the
young lady to whom he was now rendering himself agreeable; but Elizabeth,
less clear-sighted perhaps in this case than in Charlotte’s, did not
quarrel with him for his wish of independence. Nothing, on the contrary,
could be more natural; and while able to suppose that it cost him a few
struggles to relinquish her, she was ready to allow it a wise and
desirable measure for both, and could very sincerely wish him happy.🔗
All this was acknowledged to Mrs. Gardiner; and after relating the
circumstances, she thus went on: “I am now convinced, my dear aunt, that I
have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that pure and
elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him
all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards him;
they are even impartial towards Miss King. I cannot find out that I hate
her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good
sort of girl. There can be no love in all this. My watchfulness has been
effectual; and though I certainly should be a more interesting object to
all my acquaintances were I distractedly in love with him, I cannot say
that I regret my comparative insignificance. Importance may sometimes be
purchased too dearly. Kitty and Lydia take his defection much more to
heart than I do. They are young in the ways of the world, and not yet open
to the mortifying conviction that handsome young men must have something
to live on as well as the plain.”🔗