Old Friends and New Fancies (22 page)

speeches. I recollect once, at the house of my friend--" "I am sure you are mistaken, Mr. Bertram; the correct charade is not acting at all; it is simply a series of pictures, or
tableaux, to represent the various syllables."
The discussion threatened to become keen, especially when
the two younger girls joined in protesting that they could not
possibly recite any impromptu speeches; but Bingley finally settled the point by agreeing with Mr. Bertram's vehement assertion that it would be much more amusing if they acted their
parts, and that he could show them how to do it in such a way
that no speaking would be necessary, though Miss Bingley
doubted if
all
the company would be equal to such a demand
upon their capabilities.
The next point was to choose the words, a matter of prodigious importance, for which many books were brought out and
consulted, and the merits and possibilities of each word exhaustively debated. It was not until they renewed the consideration
of the subject at the dinner-table that they made the discovery
that if all of them were to appear in different scenes of the same
charade, there would be no one left to guess the meaning. "This becomes really serious," said Bingley. "If it was a play,
we could act to ourselves, and the chairs and tables, and be perfectly happy; but the very existence of a charade is threatened if
no one is ignorant of it. And from what I hear of intended costumes, it will take the rest of the evening for our preparations, so
that we shall be ready to begin the performance just as our ladies
have to leave us to-morrow."
"But who is leaving to-morrow? Not Miss Bennet and Miss
Darcy?" exclaimed Tom Bertram in real alarm. "This cannot be allowed. Pray, Mr. Bingley, use your authority. I am sure they
could remain another day."
"Oh, yes, I am sure we could," cried Kitty; "they could not
wish us to miss the charades--it would spoil everything if we
could not be here."
Bingley looked at Georgiana and asked her, smiling, if she
thought it could be managed, but she had already given an
imploring, though unheeded, glance towards Kitty, and now
replied, in a low voice: "It is very kind of you, but we ought not
to stay, I am sure. The carriage will be coming for us, and we
ought not to detain it for a whole day."
"What does it matter, Georgiana," Kitty exclaimed, "only
for one day! Elizabeth will not mind. Don't you care about the
charades, and about putting a stop to the whole thing? We can
easily be spared, if that is what you are thinking; the ball is not
until Friday."
Georgiana, blushing, and distressed by finding herself the
object of attack, was endeavouring to maintain her ground without giving offence, when Jane came to her assistance. "Georgiana is perfectly in the right," she said, "and sorry
though I am to lose them both, there is no doubt that they will be
expected back to-morrow without fail. But that is no reason why
the charades need be given up, for as we shall all be coming over
to Pemberley on the following day, we can give them there that
evening, if my sister and Mr. Darcy will consent to be audience,
and our performance to-night will serve as a kind of rehearsal." This suggestion was enthusiastically received, as it met all
difficulties, and Kitty forgot to reprove Georgiana for hurrying
her away, in the contemplation of the news with which they
would return home, and the delightful bustle of preparation that would ensue. Jane and Bingley had not quite the same views, and they spoke privately to Georgiana before she left, asking her to take a message begging Elizabeth and Darcy not to put themselves to any trouble about the arrangements for the stage, which need only be of the very simplest nature, a sufficiency screen and
lamps being all that would be asked for.
The rehearsal proceeded in admirable style. Mr. Bertram had
constituted himself stage-manager, and gave everyone minute
instructions as to their movements and attitudes, shouted directions from the midst of an imaginary audience, and hastened at
the last moment to take his place in the scenes where he was
required to be actor as well. With some assistance from Mr.
Bingley, he had allotted the various parts, and as he was so fortunate as to be able to regard all four ladies from an absolutely
impartial standpoint, his judgments were, on the whole, tolerably good; although the usual difficulties of such an occasion
arose, and had to be smoothed away, as, for instance, when Mrs.
Bingley positively declined to play a part which required any
acting, although she was the only person who looked the Queen
to perfection; or when Miss Darcy wanted to give up an important part to Miss Bennet, whom it did not suit at all, simply
because the latter was anxious to wear the dress that went with
it; or when Miss Bingley desired to represent both Lady Macbeth
and Joan of Arc, and could not be made to understand that she
could take only one, on account of the necessity for passing
quickly from one scene to another. All, however, was amicably
arranged before the evening ended, and when the others went to
bed, Tom Bertram sat up, desperately writing lists of the properties
and accessories which he deemed necessary to the performance.

KITTY WAS PARTLY CONSOLED for the agony of quitting Desborough Park by the prospect of a reunion of the family under such enticing circumstances, and Georgiana was sensible of the advantage of having two or more evenings of excitement to prepare for and look forward to, to sustain Kitty's spirits, which might otherwise have suffered some diminution of liveliness in consequence of Mr. Price's not having made his offer before they left. Kitty talked of it, and of him, and of the charades, incessantly and inextricably all the way home; and it was fortunate that Elizabeth was alone when they arrived, for it was hardly possible for Kitty to disentangle the three subjects in giving a description of their visit. Elizabeth made her happy by a kindly reception of the plan for the following evening, and a promise to invite the Ferrars and Mrs. Jennings to witness the charades; and when she had darted away to the nursery with some presents sent by Jane to the little Darcys, Elizabeth smilingly asked Georgiana if, from her own observation, she could confirm Kitty's eager anticipations. Georgiana could only reply that she believed all was going well; that Mr. Price was more charming than ever, and the only difficulty in the way of forming a judgment was that he was equally charming to everyone.

"I suppose Kitty's preference for him was very clearly marked?" said Elizabeth
"Yes," replied Georgiana, "I am rather afraid it was; but he appeared to accept it without any embarrassment, and the understanding between them seemed so good that I do not think there
can
be any fear of his disappointing her; we were almost always all together at Desborough, and I used to think he was only awaiting an opportunity of seeing her alone."
"Or she used to think so, perhaps?" said Elizabeth. "Well, I trust it is going to end satisfactorily; meantime, I am most anxious to see this paragon, with whom Jane, for her letter, seems to be nearly as much delighted as you and Kitty are."
Kitty was allowed to be the bearer of the note, conveying the invitation, to the Rectory party the next morning; and while Mrs. Ferrars was writing a reply in another room, the enthusiastic young lady was able to pour out her heart to the equally enthusiastic old lady. Mrs. Jennings received her with much warmth, and immediately began a series of questions which she usually answered herself at the same time that Kitty was giving a reply, so that the real and the imaginary descriptions were inseparably mingled together.
"And how was the young officer, my dear? Ay, ay, you need not tell me: as handsome and as attentive as ever, I can see by your eyes."
"Yes, just as handsome as ever, dear Mrs. Jennings, and attentive--yes--but you see we were a small party, so he could not devote himself entirely--"
"Ah, but I fancy he
did
--did he not now? You need not be so modest about it; these small parties are the very thing for the right people always to pair off together. Lord! how well I remember when Mr. Palmer was courting Charlotte, and there was a young man, too, coming after my niece, and my sister used to say: 'It won't be a match this time, Sarah,' and I'd say, 'You wait and see Henrietta; each of the girls has got her beau, and there's a room for each to sit in; and the weather's very bad;' and sure enough, the very next Monday--did you not say you had bad weather, too, my dear?"
"I did not say so, Mrs. Jennings, but we did have some rain and snow."
"I thought as much; well, well, you are a lucky girl, to have it all your own way, and your friends liking him so much, too; I suppose he will speak to Mr. Darcy when he comes over here, as your father is not just at hand."
"Dear Mrs. Jennings, you are making too much of it; he has not spoken to me yet, you know: it is only that we are good friends, and he seems to enjoy talking to me, and Jane was so kind, and let us sit together."
"That is quite right, my dear, just as it should be; I'll warrant your sister Jane is a very sensible woman; and these charades, too, just the thing. There, I am downright pleased to think I shall see the finish of it. This acting, I suppose was the young man's idea? he is a clever one, I know."
"No, it was not his; though, of course, he does it better than anyone else. It was Mr. Bertram's idea--his cousin, who came with him."
"His cousin! Ah, yes, the other young man, I recollect. He was invited for Miss Darcy, wasn't he? Come, come, now, Miss Bennet, no secrets among friends."
"There is no secret, ma'am," returned Kitty, laughing, "I do not think he was invited for Miss Darcy, or anyone; my sister did not know him before."
"You may be sure that was in her mind. Is he not heir to some great property? It seems to me I have heard so."
"He is heir to his father, Sir Thomas Bertram, in Northamptonshire; I do not know if it is a great property."
"You may make up your mind that it is, and that something will come of it, my dear Miss Bennet. A baronet! the very thing for Miss Darcy. Her brother and your sister would be sure to look high. Was he not a fine young man, and did they not make a nice couple?"
"I do not know--I did not think of it; but, Mrs. Jennings--"
"No, no, indeed, of course not. We all know what your thoughts were full of" (laughing heartily), "and very naturally, too. Never mind, my dear, we shall hear all about it before long, and you shall see if I ain't right. Lord! what a thing this will be to Elinor! She thinks no one is good enough for Miss Darcy. Well, well, it will be an evening to look forward to. Only come and tell me when I am to make my congratulations, for they will be on the tip of my tongue, and monstrous glad I shall be to get them off. Will it be to-night, I wonder, or to-morrow night? These young sailors can't afford to let the grass grow under their feet. And your dress, my dear, what did you say it was going to be?"
In such pleasant anticipants the time passed quickly until the re-entrance of Mrs. Ferrars with her note, when Kitty felt obliged to return to Pemberley, as their visitors were to arrive early, and there were still many preparations to be completed. As she walked homewards, she was in a glow of delight over the visions which their talk had evoked, and Mrs. Jennings's prophecy with regard to Georgiana and Mr. Bertram fitted into its place in the same cheerful picture. Undoubtedly Mrs. Jennings was quite right; she so seldom erred in her judgments! Kitty could not recollect that those two had ever seemed specially pleased with each other, but in all probability they were, for, now that she came to think of it, there was no one else for Georgiana, and Mr. Bertram matched her as naturally as Mr. Price did Kitty herself. Yes, it was most likely that they would soon be engaged, perhaps married, before another, and to Kitty, a more interesting couple! No, that would certainly not do. If the wedding at Longbourn must be a less magnificent affair than the one at Pemberley, if Kitty could not aspire to a wedding-dress trimmed with such lace as Miss Darcy had inherited from her mother, at all events she would have the honour and importance of being married first. With smiles of satisfaction, she pictured the sending out of the invitations, and had decided on the form of them, and the number of recipients, by the time she re-entered the house.
The same subject absorbed the attention of the two ladies she had just left. Mrs. Jennings could not refrain from recounting to her hostess the conjecture she had instantly founded upon her knowledge of Mr. Bertram's existence; and though Mrs. Ferrars was well acquainted with her friend's flights of imagination, she had no positive arguments to array against this one, and was obliged to content herself with urging Mrs. Jennings to let no hint drop of her suspicions until something should occur to confirm them, as it would be so painful for both the young people. Mrs. Jennings promised caution, at the same time being evidently unwilling to relinquish an idea that pleased her so much, and Mrs. Ferrars perceived that it would be necessary to repeat the warnings very often before the following evening, when her friend and her husband would go to the Pemberley ball without her, as she dreaded over-fatigue; on the first evening, the occasion of the charades, she intended to be present, and hoped to be able to control and check Mrs. Jennings's remarks, should they threaten to become embarrassing. Knowing her intense and freely-expressed interest in her fellow-creatures, Mrs. Jennings's friends would have been glad to bargain for not more than
one
love affair to be in progress at one time under her eyes!
The arrival of the party from Desborough could not fail to bring, even to dignified Pemberley, a pleasant sense of bustle and excitement; and in the first flood of greetings, introductions, and inquiries, Elizabeth and her husband were only aware of a generally agreeable impression of Mr. Bingley's two young guests; of Tom Bertram, good-looking, fashionable, easy and talkative, and of William Price, with his shorter, sturdier figure, fine open countenance, and manners which, with no want of animation, yet attracted by their quiet simplicity. Even in the short time since the two sets of friends had been parted, a great deal seemed to have happened which must be talked over. Bingley wished to narrate, to anyone who would listen to him, the wonderful achievements of his shooting-party yesterday, who had accounted for an incredible number of pheasants; Mr. Bertram had taken possession of Georgiana, in order to propound to her at great length a scheme for altering and improving several of the charade scenes; and William Price, who was somehow established on a settee by Kitty, was telling her how far he had succeeded in the task she had bequeathed to him, of endeavouring to teach Mrs. Bingley's parrot to talk. The whole party were comfortably disposed round the drawing-room fire, and looked like remaining there until it was time to dress for dinner; but Tom Bertram, not satisfied with explaining, wished to demonstrate, and presently asked if he might see the acting-room, after which he was not long in requesting the presence of his whole company there, to see if they understood their movements and positions on the new stage. Kitty had undertaken to show him all their preparations, and had carried off William Price with her, and Bingley followed, with many good-humoured grumblings, summoning his sister, who was not anxious to break off conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam, in the course of which she was examining him closely as to his reasons for quitting London so abruptly in the summer. It was necessary, however, to assert her position as leading lady, so she joined the others, Georgiana slipping in with her, and watching for opportunities to make herself useful, while in the intervals she put the final stitches in a headdress for Kitty. Mrs. Bingley was allowed to excuse herself, pleading fatigue, and the presence of a sufficiently large number of persons at this informal rehearsal, a reason fully justified by the bursts of laughter and sounds of prolonged argument which occasionally penetrated through the folding doors.
When, after a hasty toilet, the actors returned to the saloon, the dinner guests had already arrived. Kitty was so distressingly conscious of the confidences she had so freely given, that she kept in the background while the two young men were being introduced to Mrs. Jennings, and avoided meeting her eye. Mrs. Jennings shook hands with them both warmly, and congratulated them upon having discovered such a delightful form of amusement for themselves and the young ladies as acting charades, these long evenings.
"Madam," returned Tom Bertram, with a bow, "let us hope that the amusement will not be entirely on the side of the performers, since the hard work is not the exclusive share of the spectators."
"Oh, law, Mr. Bertram, you quite mistake me; as to amusement, I can assure you it will be the greatest treat to me and Mrs. Ferrars; but you must admit that the hard work is not just the sort a young fellow gets soon tired of, is it, now?"
"You think so, because you cannot see behind the scenes, Mrs. Jennings," interposed William Price, assuming an air of solemnity; "I do not imagine my cousin would care to have command of a troupe of actors, such as we are, for long together; you have no conception of what amount of trouble we give him, I mean, the unruly ones."
Mrs. Jennings highly appreciated the allusion which she supposed these words to contain, and tapping William on the arm with her fan, she exclaimed: "Ay, ay, Mr. Price, I understand you, but you and Mr. Bertram will have the whip-hand by and by, and then you can get some of your own back."
"I am sure Mr. Bertram is an excellent stage-manager," said Mrs. Ferrars, who had not heard all that passed, but judged by Mr. Price's puzzled look, and Mrs. Jennings's laughter, that it was time to intervene; "I cannot think how you have been able to work up your charades and be ready for an audience within so short a time."
"It can only be proved that the charades are sufficiently worked up, when we see whether the audience are sufficiently perplexed by them," said Bingley. "If you guess the words at once, we shall feel that we have utterly failed."
"Do not overestimate our intellects, my dear Bingley," said his host. "As Mrs. Jennings says, these charades are sport to you, and as a natural consequence they are presumably death to us."
"Nonsense, Darcy," exclaimed Bingley, in the midst of the storm of laughing protests evoked by this remark, "think of the acting, and the splendid
mise en scene,
if your hearts fails within you. Besides, you can always applaud. Nowadays it is the fashion to admire loudest what one understands least."
Darcy led the way to the dining-room with Mrs. Jennings, and as the ladies of the party out-numbered the gentlemen, William Price found that it fell to his lot to escort both Miss Darcy and Miss Bennet. The former, seeing this, stepped on for a pace or two in advance, and Kitty, as she took his arm, murmured: "How
discouraging
Darcy is! He always manages to make one feel that he despises the things we are doing."
William glanced to see if Mr. Darcy's sister had heard, and rejoined, "I should hardly have thought so. He is only teasing, I fancy, and you know he was speaking to Mr. Bingley, and they probably understand each other particularly well."
"Still," said Kitty, "I must say I do not like that sort of teasing; it is very provoking to be continually laughed at, and for one's best friend to do it makes it all the worse."
"No, no, Miss Bennet, I am afraid I can't agree with you there; one can put up with anything from one's best friend, or at all events with things which one would not stand for a moment from anyone else. I wonder if Miss Darcy feels that too?" he added, as they settled themselves into their places at the table.
"I am not quite sure," replied Georgiana, when the question had been explained to her. "I think that ridicule may be harder to bear from our friends than from an uninterested person, merely because one feels they ought to know best what is painful to one--if it is of a painful kind; but on the other hand, one may always feel sure that a real friend had no intention of saying anything of the sort."
"That would not be much good to
me!
" cried Kitty. "I find it is too late, when I have already been very much vexed with anyone, to remember that they really did not mean to vex me."
"Of course, it is not much consolation, when the blow has been already dealt," said Georgiana musingly; "I meant that when one has reason to believe no unkind motive exists behind anything one's friend says, then one is not expecting to be hurt."
Kitty did not want to seem inclined to pursue the subject, and William Price, after a moment's pause, said: "I imagine that you mean, by a motive, the general feeling of goodwill in your friend's mind towards you. I should doubt if people really have a distinct motive for every little thing they do and say--at all events, they would have some difficulty in defining one. But perhaps you yourself, Miss Darcy, are a student of motives--perhaps your own actions are determined by a clear purpose?"