Gay Pride and Prejudice (33 page)

At such a time much might have been said, and Elizabeth in fact wished to talk, but she considered one subject after another, universally finding that the topics her mind provided were unseemly. As she did not want to remind the gentleman of her more vulgar connections, she at last introduced the topic of travelling, and they talked of Matlock and Dove Dale with great perseverance. Yet time and her aunt moved slowly—and her patience and her ideas were nearly worn out before the tête-à-tête was over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s coming up, they were all pressed to go into the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they parted on each side with utmost politeness. Mr. Darcy handed the ladies into the carriage; and when it drove off, Elizabeth saw him walking quickly towards the house. Presumably he was eager to send word of this development to the party even now making its way northward from London.

The observations of her uncle and aunt now began; and each of them pronounced Darcy to be infinitely superior to anything they had expected. “He is perfectly well behaved, polite, and unassuming,” said her uncle.

“There
is
something a little stately in him, to be sure,” replied her aunt, “but it is confined to his air, and is not unbecoming. I can now say with the housekeeper, that though some people may call him proud, I have seen nothing of it.”

“I was never more surprised than by his behaviour to us. It was more than civil; it was really attentive; and there was no necessity for such attention. His acquaintance with Elizabeth was very trifling.”

“To be sure, Lizzy,” said her aunt, “he is not so handsome as Wickham; or, rather, he has not Wickham’s countenance, for his features are perfectly good. But how came you to tell me that he was so disagreeable?”

Elizabeth excused herself as well as she could; said that she had liked him better when they had met in Kent than before, and that she had never seen him so pleasant as this morning.

“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied her uncle. “Your great men often are; and therefore I shall not take him at his word, as he might change his mind another day, and warn me off his grounds.”

Elizabeth felt that they had entirely misunderstood his character, but said nothing.

“From what we have seen of him,” continued Mrs. Gardiner, “I really should not have thought that he could have behaved in so cruel a way by anybody as he has done by poor Wickham. He has not an ill-natured look. On the contrary, there is something of dignity in his countenance that gives one a favourable idea of his heart. To be sure, the good lady who showed us his house did give him a most flaming character! I could hardly help laughing aloud sometimes. But he is a liberal master, I suppose, and
that
in the eye of a servant comprehends every virtue.”

Elizabeth here felt herself called on to say something in vindication of his behaviour; and therefore gave them to understand, in as guarded a manner as she could, that by what she had heard from his relations in Kent, his actions toward Wickham were capable of a very different construction; and that his character was by no means so faulty, nor Wickham’s so amiable, as they had been considered in Hertfordshire. In confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.

Mrs. Gardiner was surprised and concerned; but as they were now approaching the scene of her former pleasures, every idea gave way to the charm of recollection; and she was too much engaged in pointing out to her husband all the interesting spots in its environs to think of anything else. Fatigued as she had been by the morning’s walk, they had no sooner dined than she set off again in quest of her former acquaintance, and the evening was spent in the satisfactions of an intercourse renewed after many years’ discontinuance.

The occurrences of the day were too full of interest to leave Elizabeth much attention for any of these new friends; and she could do nothing but think of Pemberley’s beauty and Mr. Darcy’s civility, and, above all, of Caroline Bingley’s arrival on the morrow.

Chapter Forty-Four

M
R.
D
ARCY HAD SUGGESTED
he bring his sister and other “interested guests” to visit Elizabeth the day after the party reached Pemberley. But on the very day of their arrival, the visitors came to Lambton in search of her. Elizabeth had been walking about the place with her aunt and uncle and some of their new friends; and they were just returning to the inn to dress themselves for dining with the same family when the sound of a coach drew them to a window, where they spied a carriage driving up the street. Elizabeth, immediately recognizing the livery, guessed what it meant, and imparted no small degree of her surprise to her relations by acquainting them with the honour which she expected. Her uncle and aunt were all amazement; and her discomposure as she spoke, joined to the circumstance itself, and many of the circumstances of the preceding day, opened to them a new idea on the business. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they felt that there was no other way of accounting for such attentions from such a quarter than by supposing a partiality for their niece. While these newly-born notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation of Elizabeth’s feelings was at every moment increasing. She had not expected to see Caroline Bingley until the following day, and now she could not remember how the meeting might ever have had the least power of recommending itself to her.

She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything worse.

Soon the sound of steps could be heard on the stairs, and Elizabeth smoothed her dress, waiting. Caroline Bingley appeared in the doorway first, her face that haughty mask she seemed capable of assuming at will; but as her eyes met Elizabeth’s, a slight smile softened her countenance.

“Miss Bingley,” said Elizabeth, cursing the flush that must signal to all her decided lack of composure on the occasion.

“Miss Bennet,” said Caroline, nodding calmly. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

Elizabeth did not have a chance to reply before Miss Darcy and her brother entered the room, and introductions took place all around. Elizabeth redirected her gaze from Caroline who, she noted, looked as impressive as ever in a dress of the latest fashion, and focused instead on Darcy’s sister. Miss Darcy was tall too, but on a larger scale than she or Caroline; and, though little more than sixteen, her figure was formed, her appearance womanly and graceful. Since arriving in Lambton, Elizabeth had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy.

Risking a glance at Caroline, Elizabeth found herself the subject of a curiously intent gaze. But upon intercepting the look, Caroline turned away to engage Mrs. Gardiner in, if not animated, at least convivial, conversation on the topic of the previous season’s tendency toward ever more sizable headgear.

They had not long been together before Mr. Darcy told Elizabeth that Mr. Bingley was also coming to wait on her; and she had barely time to express her satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when Bingley’s approach could be heard, and in a moment he entered the room. Elizabeth’s anger against him had been long done away; but had she still felt any, it could hardly have stood its ground against the unaffected cordiality with which he expressed himself on seeing her again. He inquired in a friendly, though general way, after her family, and looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease that he had ever done.

To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely a less interesting personage than to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before them, indeed, excited a lively attention. The suspicions which had just arisen of Mr. Darcy and their niece directed their observation towards each with an earnest though guarded inquiry; but though they watched the interaction with care, they were unable to detect more than an average sensation from either side.

Elizabeth, for her part, had much to do. She wanted to ascertain the feelings of each of her visitors; she wanted to compose her own, and to make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter object, where she feared most to fail, she was most sure of success, for those to whom she endeavoured to give pleasure were prepossessed in her favour. Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and even Caroline was open to being pleased.

The latter watched Elizabeth, too, noting with approval the kindness with which she worked to draw out the shy Miss Darcy, wondering at the occasional blushing looks cast her way. Seeing Elizabeth as she was now, Caroline couldn’t help but wonder if her written words of explication and justification might have had the desired effect on their reader. Darcy had claimed that Miss Bennet’s attitude had seemed much changed since their last meeting at Rosings, and Caroline could see that he was right—Elizabeth had about her a softer, more diffident air, her countenance decidedly lacking the general sense of antagonism of previous encounters. The change, Darcy had insisted, must be owed entirely to Caroline, and to no one else. Tempting as it was to believe his interpretation, Caroline could not forget the last time she had seen Elizabeth. She didn’t dare hope that Miss Bennet had reconsidered her views on everything that had happened—or, more importantly, her feelings toward Caroline. Being told that she was the last person in the world Elizabeth could ever love had left Caroline, who suffered the misfortune of loving Elizabeth better than any woman she had ever known, somewhat less inclined to hope for a revolution in the other’s sentiments.

In seeing Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth found her thoughts shifting from Caroline to Jane; and how ardently did she long to know whether any of his were transported in a like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he talked less than on former occasions, and once or twice pleased herself with the notion that, as he looked at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance. But, though this might be imaginary, she could not be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a possible rival to Jane. No look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard, and nothing occurred between them that could justify the charge. On this point she was soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared.

He observed to her, at a moment when the others were talking together, and in a tone which had something of real regret, that it was “a very long time since he had had the pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could reply, he added, “It is above eight months. We have not met since the 26th of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”

She was pleased to find his memory so exact; and he afterwards took occasion to ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether
all
her sisters were at Longbourn. There was not much in the question, nor in the preceding remark; but there was a look and a manner which gave to them meaning, and to her, hope on her sister’s behalf.

It was not often during the short visit that Elizabeth had occasion to turn her eyes on Caroline; but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all that the lady said Elizabeth heard an accent so removed from hauteur or superiority, as convinced her that Caroline’s manners had undergone a similar shift to those of Pemberley’s master. When she saw the lady thus courting the good opinion of her relations, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible. Never had she seen Caroline so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence, as now, when no importance could result from the success of her endeavours.

Their visitors stayed with them above half-an-hour; and when they arose to depart, Mr. Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet, to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the country. Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence which marked her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily obeyed, while in the background Miss Bingley looked out the window and worried the thin fabric of her travelling gown. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous of knowing how
she
, whom the invitation most concerned, felt disposed as to its acceptance, but Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a momentary embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal, and seeing in her husband, who was fond of society, a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to engage for her attendance, and the day after the next was fixed on.

Bingley expressed great pleasure in the certainty of seeing Elizabeth again, having still a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth, construing all this into a wish of hearing her speak of her sister, was pleased, and on this account as well as some others, including the manner in which Caroline smiled graciously at her on the way out of the room, found herself, when their visitors had left them, capable of considering the last half-hour with some satisfaction; though while it was passing, the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough to hear their favourable opinion of the Bingleys and Miss Darcy, and then hurried away to dress.

But she had no reason to fear Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was not their wish to force her communication. It was evident that she was much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy than they had before any idea of; but the precise nature of the acquaintance still remained uncertain. They saw much to interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.