Pride and Prejudice (version 3) — Chapter 23

[Illustration] Elizabeth was sitting with her mother and sisters, reflecting on what she had heard, and doubting whether she was authorized to mention it, when Sir William Lucas himself appeared, sent by his daughter to announce her engagement to the family.

With many compliments to them, and much self-gratulation on the prospect of a connection between the houses, he unfolded the matter,--to an audience not merely wondering, but incredulous; for Mrs. Bennet, with more perseverance than politeness, protested he must be entirely mistaken; and Lydia, always unguarded and often uncivil, boisterously exclaimed,-- “Good Lord!

Sir William, how can you tell such a story?

Do not you know that Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy?

” Nothing less than the complaisance of a courtier could have borne without anger such treatment: but Sir William’s good-breeding carried him through it all; and though he begged leave to be positive as to the truth of his information, he listened to all their impertinence with the most forbearing courtesy.

Elizabeth, feeling it incumbent on her to relieve him from so unpleasant a situation, now put herself forward to confirm his account, by mentioning her prior knowledge of it from Charlotte herself; and endeavoured to put a stop to the exclamations of her mother and sisters, by the earnestness of her congratulations to Sir William, in which she was readily joined by Jane, and by making a variety of remarks on the happiness that might be expected from the match, the excellent character of Mr. Collins, and the convenient distance of Hunsford from London.

Mrs. Bennet was, in fact, too much overpowered to say a great deal while Sir William remained; but no sooner had he left them than her feelings found a rapid vent.

In the first place, she persisted in disbelieving the whole of the matter; secondly, she was very sure that Mr. Collins had been taken in; thirdly, she trusted that they would never be happy together; and, fourthly, that the match might be broken off.

Two inferences, however, were plainly deduced from the whole: one, that Elizabeth was the real cause of all the mischief; and the other, that she herself had been barbarously used by them all; and on these two points she principally dwelt during the rest of the day.

Nothing could console and nothing appease her.

Nor did that day wear out her resentment.

A week elapsed before she could see Elizabeth without scolding her: a month passed away before she could speak to Sir William or Lady Lucas without being rude; and many months were gone before she could at all forgive their daughter.

Mr. Bennet’s emotions were much more tranquil on the occasion, and such as he did experience he pronounced to be of a most agreeable sort; for it gratified him, he said, to discover that Charlotte Lucas, whom he had been used to think tolerably sensible, was as foolish as his wife, and more foolish than his daughter!

Jane confessed herself a little surprised at the match: but she said less of her astonishment than of her earnest desire for their happiness;

nor could Elizabeth persuade her to consider it as improbable.

Kitty and Lydia were far from envying Miss Lucas, for Mr. Collins was only a clergyman; and it affected them in no other way than as a piece of news to spread at Meryton.

Lady Lucas could not be insensible of triumph on being able to retort on Mrs. Bennet the comfort of having a daughter well married; and she called at Longbourn rather oftener than usual to say how happy she was, though Mrs. Bennet’s sour looks and ill-natured remarks might have been enough to drive happiness away.

Between Elizabeth and Charlotte there was a restraint which kept them mutually silent on the subject; and Elizabeth felt persuaded that no real confidence could ever subsist between them again.

Her disappointment in Charlotte made her turn with fonder regard to her sister, of whose rectitude and delicacy she was sure her opinion could never be shaken, and for whose happiness she grew daily more anxious, as Bingley had now been gone a week, and nothing was heard of his return.

Jane had sent Caroline an early answer to her letter, and was counting the days till she might reasonably hope to hear again.

The promised letter of thanks from Mr. Collins arrived on Tuesday, addressed to their father, and written with all the solemnity of gratitude which a twelve-month’s abode in the family might have prompted.

After discharging his conscience on that head, he proceeded to inform them, with many rapturous expressions, of his happiness in having obtained the affection of their amiable neighbour, Miss Lucas, and then explained that it was merely with the view of enjoying her society that he had been so ready to close with their kind wish of seeing him again at Longbourn, whither he hoped to be able to return on Monday fortnight;

for Lady Catherine, he added, so heartily approved his marriage, that she wished it to take place as soon as possible, which he trusted would be an unanswerable argument with his amiable Charlotte to name an early day for making him the happiest of men.

Mr. Collins’s return into Hertfordshire was no longer a matter of pleasure to Mrs. Bennet.

On the contrary, she was as much disposed to complain of it as her husband.

It was very strange that he should come to Longbourn instead of to Lucas Lodge; it was also very inconvenient and exceedingly troublesome.

She hated having visitors in the house while her health was so indifferent, and lovers were of all people the most disagreeable.

Such were the gentle murmurs of Mrs. Bennet, and they gave way only to the greater distress of Mr. Bingley’s continued absence.

Neither Jane nor Elizabeth were comfortable on this subject.

Day after day passed away without bringing any other tidings of him than the report which shortly prevailed in Meryton of his coming no more to Netherfield the whole winter; a report which highly incensed Mrs. Bennet, and which she never failed to contradict as a most scandalous falsehood.

Even Elizabeth began to fear--not that Bingley was indifferent--but that his sisters would be successful in keeping him away.

Unwilling as she was to admit an idea so destructive to Jane’s happiness, and so dishonourable to the stability of her lover, she could not prevent its frequently recurring.

The united efforts of his two unfeeling sisters, and of his overpowering friend, assisted by the attractions of Miss Darcy and the amusements of London, might be too much, she feared, for the strength of his attachment.

As for Jane, _her_ anxiety under this suspense was, of course, more painful than Elizabeth’s: but whatever she felt she was desirous of concealing; and between herself and Elizabeth, therefore, the subject was never alluded to.

But as no such delicacy restrained her mother, an hour seldom passed in which she did not talk of Bingley, express her impatience for his arrival, or even require Jane to confess that if he did not come back she should think herself very ill-used.

It needed all Jane’s steady mildness to bear these attacks with tolerable tranquillity.

Mr. Collins returned most punctually on the Monday fortnight, but his reception at Longbourn was not quite so gracious as it had been on his first introduction.

He was too happy, however, to need much attention;

and, luckily for the others, the business of love-making relieved them from a great deal of his company.

The chief of every day was spent by him at Lucas Lodge, and he sometimes returned to Longbourn only in time to make an apology for his absence before the family went to bed.

[Illustration: “_Whenever she spoke in a low voice_” ] Mrs. Bennet was really in a most pitiable state.

The very mention of anything concerning the match threw her into an agony of ill-humour, and wherever she went she was sure of hearing it talked of.

The sight of Miss Lucas was odious to her.

As her successor in that house, she regarded her with jealous abhorrence.

Whenever Charlotte came to see them, she concluded her to be anticipating the hour of possession; and whenever she spoke in a low voice to Mr. Collins, was convinced that they were talking of the Longbourn estate, and resolving to turn herself and her daughters out of the house as soon as Mr. Bennet was dead.

She complained bitterly of all this to her husband.

“Indeed, Mr. Bennet,” said she, “it is very hard to think that Charlotte Lucas should ever be mistress of this house, that _I_ should be forced to make way for _her_, and live to see her take my place in it!

” “My dear, do not give way to such gloomy thoughts.

Let us hope for better things.

Let us flatter ourselves that _I_ may be the survivor.

” This was not very consoling to Mrs. Bennet; and, therefore, instead of making any answer, she went on as before.

“I cannot bear to think that they should have all this estate.

If it was not for the entail, I should not mind it.

” “What should not you mind?

” “I should not mind anything at all.

” “Let us be thankful that you are preserved from a state of such insensibility.

” “I never can be thankful, Mr. Bennet, for anything about the entail.

How anyone could have the conscience to entail away an estate from one’s own daughters I cannot understand; and all for the sake of Mr. Collins, too!

Why should _he_ have it more than anybody else?

” “I leave it to yourself to determine,” said Mr. Bennet.

[Illustration] CHAPTER XXIV.

[Illustration] Miss Bingley’s letter arrived, and put an end to doubt.

The very first sentence conveyed the assurance of their being all settled in London for the winter, and concluded with her brother’s regret at not having had time to pay his respects to his friends in Hertfordshire before he left the country.

Hope was over, entirely over; and when Jane could attend to the rest of the letter, she found little, except the professed affection of the writer, that could give her any comfort.

Miss Darcy’s praise occupied the chief of it.

Her many attractions were again dwelt on; and Caroline boasted joyfully of their increasing intimacy, and ventured to predict the accomplishment of the wishes which had been unfolded in her former letter.

She wrote also with great pleasure of her brother’s being an inmate of Mr. Darcy’s house, and mentioned with raptures some plans of the latter with regard to new furniture.

Elizabeth, to whom Jane very soon communicated the chief of all this, heard it in silent indignation.

Her heart was divided between concern for her sister and resentment against all others.

To Caroline’s assertion of her brother’s being partial to Miss Darcy, she paid no credit.

That he was really fond of Jane, she doubted no more than she had ever done; and much as she had always been disposed to like him, she could not think without anger, hardly without contempt, on that easiness of temper, that want of proper resolution, which now made him the slave of his designing friends, and led him to sacrifice his own happiness to the caprice of their inclinations.

Had his own happiness, however, been the only sacrifice, he might have been allowed to sport with it in whatever manner he thought best; but her sister’s was involved in it, as she thought he must be sensible himself.

It was a subject, in short, on which reflection would be long indulged, and must be unavailing.

She could think of nothing else; and yet, whether Bingley’s regard had really died away, or were suppressed by his friends’ interference;

whether he had been aware of Jane’s attachment, or whether it had escaped his observation; whichever were the case, though her opinion of him must be materially affected by the difference, her sister’s situation remained the same, her peace equally wounded.

A day or two passed before Jane had courage to speak of her feelings to Elizabeth; but at last, on Mrs. Bennet’s leaving them together, after a longer irritation than usual about Netherfield and its master, she could not help saying,-- “O that my dear mother had more command over herself!

she can have no idea of the pain she gives me by her continual reflections on him.

But I will not repine.

It cannot last long.

He will be forgot, and we shall all be as we were before.

” Elizabeth looked at her sister with incredulous solicitude, but said nothing.

“You doubt me,” cried Jane, slightly colouring; “indeed, you have no reason.

He may live in my memory as the most amiable man of my acquaintance but that is all.

I have nothing either to hope or fear, and nothing to reproach him with.

Thank God I have not _that_ pain.

A little time, therefore--I shall certainly try to get the better----” With a stronger voice she soon added, “I have this comfort immediately, that it has not been more than an error of fancy on my side, and that it has done no harm to anyone but myself.

” “My dear Jane,” exclaimed Elizabeth, “you are too good.

Your sweetness and disinterestedness are really angelic; I do not know what to say to you.

I feel as if I had never done you justice, or loved you as you deserve.

” Miss Bennet eagerly disclaimed all extraordinary merit, and threw back the praise on her sister’s warm affection.

“Nay,” said Elizabeth, “this is not fair.

_You_ wish to think all the world respectable, and are hurt if I speak ill of anybody.

_I_ only want to think _you_ perfect, and you set yourself against it.

Do not be afraid of my running into any excess, of my encroaching on your privilege of universal good-will.

You need not.

There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well.

The more I see of the world the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit or sense.

I have met with two instances lately: one I will not mention, the other is Charlotte’s marriage.

It is unaccountable!

in every view it is unaccountable!

” “My dear Lizzy, do not give way to such feelings as these.

They will ruin your happiness.

You do not make allowance enough for difference of situation and temper.

Consider Mr. Collins’s respectability, and Charlotte’s prudent, steady character.

Remember that she is one of a large family; that as to fortune it is a most eligible match; and be ready to believe, for everybody’s sake, that she may feel something like regard and esteem for our cousin.

” “To oblige you, I would try to believe almost anything, but no one else could be benefited by such a belief as this; for were I persuaded that Charlotte had any regard for him, I should only think worse of her understanding than I now do of her heart.

My dear Jane, Mr. Collins is a conceited, pompous, narrow-minded, silly man: you know he is, as well as I do; and you must feel, as well as I do, that the woman who marries him cannot have a proper way of thinking.

You shall not defend her, though it is Charlotte Lucas.

You shall not, for the sake of one individual, change the meaning of principle and integrity, nor endeavour to persuade yourself or me, that selfishness is prudence, and insensibility of danger security for happiness.

” “I must think your language too strong in speaking of both,” replied Jane; “and I hope you will be convinced of it, by seeing them happy together.

But enough of this.

You alluded to something else.

You mentioned _two_ instances.

I cannot misunderstand you, but I entreat you, dear Lizzy, not to pain me by thinking _that person_ to blame, and saying your opinion of him is sunk.

We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured.

We must not expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect.

It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us.

Women fancy admiration means more than it does.

” “And men take care that they should.

” “If it is designedly done, they cannot be justified; but I have no idea of there being so much design in the world as some persons imagine.

” “I am far from attributing any part of Mr. Bingley’s conduct to design,” said Elizabeth; “but, without scheming to do wrong, or to make others unhappy, there may be error and there may be misery.

Thoughtlessness, want of attention to other people’s feelings, and want of resolution, will do the business.

” “And do you impute it to either of those?

” “Yes; to the last.

But if I go on I shall displease you by saying what I think of persons you esteem.

Stop me, whilst you can.

” “You persist, then, in supposing his sisters influence him?

” “Yes, in conjunction with his friend.

” “I cannot believe it.

Why should they try to influence him?

They can only wish his happiness; and if he is attached to me no other woman can secure it.

” “Your first position is false.

They may wish many things besides his happiness: they may wish his increase of wealth and consequence; they may wish him to marry a girl who has all the importance of money, great connections, and pride.

” “Beyond a doubt they do wish him to choose Miss Darcy,” replied Jane;

“but this may be from better feelings than you are supposing.

They have known her much longer than they have known me; no wonder if they love her better.

But, whatever may be their own wishes, it is very unlikely they should have opposed their brother’s. What sister would think herself at liberty to do it, unless there were something very objectionable?

If they believed him attached to me they would not try to part us; if he were so, they could not succeed.

By supposing such an affection, you make everybody acting unnaturally and wrong, and me most unhappy.

Do not distress me by the idea.

I am not ashamed of having been mistaken--or, at least, it is slight, it is nothing in comparison of what I should feel in thinking ill of him or his sisters.

Let me take it in the best light, in the light in which it may be understood.

” Elizabeth could not oppose such a wish; and from this time Mr. Bingley’s name was scarcely ever mentioned between them.

Mrs. Bennet still continued to wonder and repine at his returning no more; and though a day seldom passed in which Elizabeth did not account for it clearly, there seemed little chance of her ever considering it with less perplexity.

Her daughter endeavoured to convince her of what she did not believe herself, that his attentions to Jane had been merely the effect of a common and transient liking, which ceased when he saw her no more; but though the probability of the statement was admitted at the time, she had the same story to repeat every day.

Mrs. Bennet’s best comfort was, that Mr. Bingley must be down again in the summer.

Mr. Bennet treated the matter differently.

“So, Lizzy,” said he, one day, “your sister is crossed in love, I find.

I congratulate her.

Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in love a little now and then.

It is something to think of, and gives her a sort of distinction among her companions.

When is your turn to come?

You will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane.

Now is your time.

Here are officers enough at Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the country.

Let Wickham be your man.

He is a pleasant fellow, and would jilt you creditably.

” “Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me.

We must not all expect Jane’s good fortune.

” “True,” said Mr. Bennet; “but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of that kind may befall you, you have an affectionate mother who will always make the most of it.

” Mr. Wickham’s society was of material service in dispelling the gloom which the late perverse occurrences had thrown on many of the Longbourn family.

They saw him often, and to his other recommendations was now added that of general unreserve.

The whole of what Elizabeth had already heard, his claims on Mr. Darcy, and all that he had suffered from him, was now openly acknowledged and publicly canvassed; and everybody was pleased to think how much they had always disliked Mr. Darcy before they had known anything of the matter.

Miss Bennet was the only creature who could suppose there might be any extenuating circumstances in the case unknown to the society of Hertfordshire: her mild and steady candour always pleaded for allowances, and urged the possibility of mistakes; but by everybody else Mr. Darcy was condemned as the worst of men.

[Illustration] CHAPTER XXV.

[Illustration] After a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of Saturday.

The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his side by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men.

He took leave of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of thanks.

On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at Longbourn.

Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as education.

The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well-bred and agreeable.

Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great favourite with her Longbourn nieces.

Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a very particular regard.

They had frequently been staying with her in town.

The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business, on her arrival, was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions.

When this was done, she had a less active part to play.

It became her turn to listen.

Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of.

They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister.

Two of her girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing in it.

“I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr. Bingley if she could.

But, Lizzy!

Oh, sister!

it is very hard to think that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had not it been for her own perverseness.

He made her an offer in this very room, and she refused him.

The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever.

The Lucases are very artful people, indeed, sister.

They are all for what they can get.

I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is.

It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else.

However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us of long sleeves.

” Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the conversation.

When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject.

“It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she.

“I am sorry it went off.

But these things happen so often!

A young man, such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates them, so easily forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies are very frequent.

” [Illustration: “Offended two or three young ladies” [_Copyright 1894 by George Allen.

_]] “An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth; “but it will not do for _us_.

We do not suffer by accident.

It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before.

” “But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea.

It is as often applied to feelings which arise only from a half hour’s acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment.

Pray, how _violent was_ Mr. Bingley’s love?

” “I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her.

Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable.

At his own ball he offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance; and I spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer.

Could there be finer symptoms?

Is not general incivility the very essence of love?

” “Oh, yes!

of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt.

Poor Jane!

I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately.

It had better have happened to _you_, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner.

But do you think she would be prevailed on to go back with us?

Change of scene might be of service--and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything.

” Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister’s ready acquiescence.

“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her.

We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her.

” “And _that_ is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London!

My dear aunt, how could you think of it?

Mr. Darcy may, perhaps, have _heard_ of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without him.

” “So much the better.

I hope they will not meet at all.

But does not Jane correspond with his sister?

_She_ will not be able to help calling.

” “She will drop the acquaintance entirely.

” But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely hopeless.

It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that his affection might be re-animated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s attractions.

Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time than as she hoped, by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of seeing him.

The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement.

Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family dinner.

When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and on these occasions Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s warm commendation of him, narrowly observed them both.

Without supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.

To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure, unconnected with his general powers.

About ten or a dozen years ago, before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged.

They had, therefore, many acquaintance in common; and, though Wickham had been little there since the death of Darcy’s father, five years before, it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been in the way of procuring.

Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by character perfectly well.

Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible subject of discourse.

In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with the minute description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself.

On being made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember something of that gentleman’s reputed disposition, when quite a lad, which might agree with it; and was confident, at last, that she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy.

[Illustration: “Will you come and see me?

” ] CHAPTER XXVI.

[Illustration] 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 wiser 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 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 down stairs together, Charlotte said,-- “I shall depend on hearing from you very often, Eliza.

” “_That_ you certainly shall.

” “And I have another favour to ask.

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 to come to me in March,” added Charlotte, “and I hope you will consent to be of the party.

Indeed, Eliza, you will be as welcome to me 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 ever had 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.