Had Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could not
have formed a very pleasing opinion of conjugal felicity or domestic
comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance
of good humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a woman
whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in their
marriage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect, esteem, and
confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of domestic happiness
were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a disposition to seek comfort
for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of
those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or
their vice. He was fond of the country and of books; and from these tastes
had arisen his principal enjoyments. To his wife he was very little
otherwise indebted, than as her ignorance and folly had contributed to his
amusement. This is not the sort of happiness which a man would in general
wish to owe to his wife; but where other powers of entertainment are
wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.🔗
Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her
father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but
respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of
herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to
banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation and
decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children,
was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so strongly as now the
disadvantages which must attend the children of so unsuitable a marriage,
nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising from so ill-judged a
direction of talents; talents, which, rightly used, might at least have
preserved the respectability of his daughters, even if incapable of
enlarging the mind of his wife.🔗
When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure she found little
other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties
abroad were less varied than before, and at home she had a mother and
sister whose constant repinings at the dullness of everything around them
threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty might in
time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers of her brain
were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition greater evil might
be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her folly and assurance
by a situation of such double danger as a watering-place and a camp. Upon
the whole, therefore, she found, what has been sometimes found before,
that an event to which she had looked forward with impatient desire did not,
in taking place, bring all the satisfaction she had promised herself. It
was consequently necessary to name some other period for the commencement
of actual felicity—to have some other point on which her wishes and
hopes might be fixed, and by again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation,
console herself for the present, and prepare for another disappointment.
Her tour to the Lakes was now the object of her happiest thoughts; it was
her best consolation for all the uncomfortable hours which the
discontentedness of her mother and Kitty made inevitable; and could she
have included Jane in the scheme, every part of it would have been
perfect.🔗
“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for.
Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain.
But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my
sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of
pleasure realised. A scheme of which every part promises delight can never
be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by the
defence of some little peculiar vexation.”🔗
When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and very minutely to
her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and
always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that
they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers had
attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as made her
quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which she would
have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a violent
hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going off to the camp;
and from her correspondence with her sister, there was still less to be
learnt—for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much too
full of lines under the words to be made public.🔗
After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health, good
humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything wore a
happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter came back
again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs. Bennet was
restored to her usual querulous serenity; and, by the middle of June,
Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton without tears;
an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth hope that by the
following Christmas she might be so tolerably reasonable as not to mention
an officer above once a day, unless, by some cruel and malicious
arrangement at the War Office, another regiment should be quartered in
Meryton.🔗
The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast
approaching, and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter arrived
from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and curtailed
its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from setting out
till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again within a
month, and as that left too short a period for them to go so far, and see
so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with the leisure and
comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up the Lakes, and
substitute a more contracted tour, and, according to the present plan,
were to go no farther northwards than Derbyshire. In that county there was
enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three weeks; and to Mrs.
Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The town where she had
formerly passed some years of her life, and where they were now to spend a
few days, was probably as great an object of her curiosity as all the
celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth, Dovedale, or the Peak.🔗
Elizabeth was excessively disappointed; she had set her heart on seeing
the Lakes, and still thought there might have been time enough. But it was
her business to be satisfied—and certainly her temper to be happy;
and all was soon right again.🔗
With the mention of Derbyshire there were many ideas connected. It was
impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its
owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity, and
rob it of a few petrified spars without his perceiving me.”🔗
The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away
before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and
Mrs. Gardiner, with their four children, did at length appear at
Longbourn. The children, two girls of six and eight years old, and two
younger boys, were to be left under the particular care of their cousin
Jane, who was the general favourite, and whose steady sense and sweetness
of temper exactly adapted her for attending to them in every way—teaching
them, playing with them, and loving them.🔗
The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn, and set off the next
morning with Elizabeth in pursuit of novelty and amusement. One enjoyment
was certain—that of suitableness of companions; a suitableness which
comprehended health and temper to bear inconveniences—cheerfulness
to enhance every pleasure—and affection and intelligence, which
might supply it among themselves if there were disappointments abroad.🔗
It is not the object of this work to give a description of Derbyshire, nor
of any of the remarkable places through which their route thither lay;
Oxford, Blenheim, Warwick, Kenilworth, Birmingham, etc. are sufficiently
known. A small part of Derbyshire is all the present concern. To the
little town of Lambton, the scene of Mrs. Gardiner’s former residence, and
where she had lately learned some acquaintance still remained, they bent
their steps, after having seen all the principal wonders of the country;
and within five miles of Lambton, Elizabeth found from her aunt that
Pemberley was situated. It was not in their direct road, nor more than a
mile or two out of it. In talking over their route the evening before,
Mrs. Gardiner expressed an inclination to see the place again. Mr.
Gardiner declared his willingness, and Elizabeth was applied to for her
approbation.🔗
“My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so
much?” said her aunt; “a place, too, with which so many of your
acquaintances are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you
know.”🔗
Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Pemberley,
and was obliged to assume a disinclination for seeing it. She must own
that she was tired of seeing great houses; after going over so many, she
really had no pleasure in fine carpets or satin curtains.🔗
Mrs. Gardiner abused her stupidity. “If it were merely a fine house richly
furnished,” said she, “I should not care about it myself; but the grounds
are delightful. They have some of the finest woods in the country.”🔗
Elizabeth said no more—but her mind could not acquiesce. The
possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy, while viewing the place, instantly
occurred. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea, and thought
it would be better to speak openly to her aunt than to run such a risk.
But against this there were objections; and she finally resolved that it
could be the last resource, if her private enquiries to the absence of the
family were unfavourably answered.🔗
Accordingly, when she retired at night, she asked the chambermaid whether
Pemberley were not a very fine place? what was the name of its proprietor?
and, with no little alarm, whether the family were down for the summer? A
most welcome negative followed the last question—and her alarms now
being removed, she was at leisure to feel a great deal of curiosity to see
the house herself; and when the subject was revived the next morning, and
she was again applied to, could readily answer, and with a proper air of
indifference, that she had not really any dislike to the scheme. To
Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.🔗