JANE AUSTEN 25 страница

she still thought him partial to Jane, and she wavered as to

the greater probability of his coming there _with_ his friend's

permission, or being bold enough to come without it.

 

"Yet it is hard," she sometimes thought, "that this poor man

cannot come to a house which he has legally hired, without

raising all this speculation! I _will_ leave him to himself."

 

In spite of what her sister declared, and really believed to be

her feelings in the expectation of his arrival, Elizabeth could

easily perceive that her spirits were affected by it. They

were more disturbed, more unequal, than she had often seen

them.

 

The subject which had been so warmly canvassed between their

parents, about a twelvemonth ago, was now brought forward

again.

 

"As soon as ever Mr. Bingley comes, my dear," said Mrs. Bennet,

"you will wait on him of course."

 

"No, no. You forced me into visiting him last year, and

promised, if I went to see him, he should marry one of my

daughters. But it ended in nothing, and I will not be sent on

a fool's errand again."

 

His wife represented to him how absolutely necessary such an

attention would be from all the neighbouring gentlemen, on his

returning to Netherfield.

 

"'Tis an etiquette I despise," said he. "If he wants our

society, let him seek it. He knows where we live. I will not

spend _my_ hours in running after my neighbours every time they

go away and come back again."

 

"Well, all I know is, that it will be abominably rude if you do

not wait on him. But, however, that shan't prevent my asking

him to dine here, I am determined. We must have Mrs. Long and

the Gouldings soon. That will make thirteen with ourselves, so

there will be just room at table for him."

 

Consoled by this resolution, she was the better able to bear

her husband's incivility; though it was very mortifying to know

that her neighbours might all see Mr. Bingley, in consequence

of it, before _they_ did. As the day of his arrival drew near,

 

"I begin to be sorry that he comes at all," said Jane to her

sister. "It would be nothing; I could see him with perfect

indifference, but I can hardly bear to hear it thus perpetually

talked of. My mother means well; but she does not know, no one

can know, how much I suffer from what she says. Happy shall I

be, when his stay at Netherfield is over!"

 

"I wish I could say any thing to comfort you," replied

Elizabeth; "but it is wholly out of my power. You must feel

it; and the usual satisfaction of preaching patience to a

sufferer is denied me, because you have always so much."

 

Mr. Bingley arrived. Mrs. Bennet, through the assistance of

servants, contrived to have the earliest tidings of it, that

the period of anxiety and fretfulness on her side might be as

long as it could. She counted the days that must intervene

before their invitation could be sent; hopeless of seeing him

before. But on the third morning after his arrival in

Hertfordshire, she saw him, from her dressing-room window,

enter the paddock and ride towards the house.

 

Her daughters were eagerly called to partake of her joy. Jane

resolutely kept her place at the table; but Elizabeth, to

satisfy her mother, went to the window -- she looked, -- she

saw Mr. Darcy with him, and sat down again by her sister.

 

"There is a gentleman with him, mamma," said Kitty; "who can it

be?"

 

"Some acquaintance or other, my dear, I suppose; I am sure I

do not know."

 

"La!" replied Kitty, "it looks just like that man that used to

be with him before. Mr. what's-his-name. That tall, proud

man."

 

"Good gracious! Mr. Darcy! -- and so it does, I vow. Well,

any friend of Mr. Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be

sure; but else I must say that I hate the very sight of him."

 

Jane looked at Elizabeth with surprise and concern. She knew

but little of their meeting in Derbyshire, and therefore felt

for the awkwardness which must attend her sister, in seeing him

almost for the first time after receiving his explanatory

letter. Both sisters were uncomfortable enough. Each felt for

the other, and of course for themselves; and their mother

talked on, of her dislike of Mr. Darcy, and her resolution to

be civil to him only as Mr. Bingley's friend, without being

heard by either of them. But Elizabeth had sources of

uneasiness which could not be suspected by Jane, to whom she

had never yet had courage to shew Mrs. Gardiner's letter, or to

relate her own change of sentiment towards him. To Jane, he

could be only a man whose proposals she had refused, and whose

merit she had undervalued; but to her own more extensive

information, he was the person to whom the whole family were

indebted for the first of benefits, and whom she regarded

herself with an interest, if not quite so tender, at least as

reasonable and just as what Jane felt for Bingley. Her

astonishment at his coming -- at his coming to Netherfield, to

Longbourn, and voluntarily seeking her again, was almost equal

to what she had known on first witnessing his altered behaviour

in Derbyshire.

 

The colour which had been driven from her face, returned for

half a minute with an additional glow, and a smile of delight

added lustre to her eyes, as she thought for that space of time

that his affection and wishes must still be unshaken. But she

would not be secure.

 

"Let me first see how he behaves," said she; "it will then be

early enough for expectation."

 

She sat intently at work, striving to be composed, and without

daring to lift up her eyes, till anxious curiosity carried them

to the face of her sister as the servant was approaching the

door. Jane looked a little paler than usual, but more sedate

than Elizabeth had expected. On the gentlemen's appearing, her

colour increased; yet she received them with tolerable ease,

and with a propriety of behaviour equally free from any symptom

of resentment or any unnecessary complaisance.

 

Elizabeth said as little to either as civility would allow, and

sat down again to her work, with an eagerness which it did not

often command. She had ventured only one glance at Darcy. He

looked serious, as usual; and, she thought, more as he had been

used to look in Hertfordshire, than as she had seen him at

Pemberley. But, perhaps he could not in her mother's presence

be what he was before her uncle and aunt. It was a painful,

but not an improbable, conjecture.

 

Bingley, she had likewise seen for an instant, and in that

short period saw him looking both pleased and embarrassed. He

was received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility which

made her two daughters ashamed, especially when contrasted with

the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address

to his friend.

 

Elizabeth, particularly, who knew that her mother owed to the

latter the preservation of her favourite daughter from

irremediable infamy, was hurt and distressed to a most painful

degree by a distinction so ill applied.

 

Darcy, after enquiring of her how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner did, a

question which she could not answer without confusion, said

scarcely any thing. He was not seated by her; perhaps that was

the reason of his silence; but it had not been so in

Derbyshire. There he had talked to her friends, when he could

not to herself. But now several minutes elapsed without

bringing the sound of his voice; and when occasionally, unable

to resist the impulse of curiosity, she raised he eyes to his

face, she as often found him looking at Jane as at herself, and

frequently on no object but the ground. More thoughtfulness

and less anxiety to please, than when they last met, were

plainly expressed. She was disappointed, and angry with

herself for being so.

 

"Could I expect it to be otherwise!" said she. "Yet why did

he come?"

 

She was in no humour for conversation with any one but himself;

and to him she had hardly courage to speak.

 

She enquired after his sister, but could do no more.

 

"It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away," said

Mrs. Bennet.

 

He readily agreed to it.

 

"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People

_did_ say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas;

but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes

have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss

Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters.

I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it

in the papers. It was in the _Times_ and the _Courier_, I

know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only

said, ``Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,''

without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place

where she lived, or any thing. It was my brother Gardiner's

drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an

awkward business of it. Did you see it?"

 

Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations.

Elizabeth dared not lift up her eyes. How Mr. Darcy looked,

therefore, she could not tell.

 

"It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter

well married," continued her mother, "but at the same time,

Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from

me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward,

it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long.

His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his

leaving the ----shire, and of his being gone into the regulars.

Thank Heaven! he has _some_ friends, though perhaps not so

many as he deserves."

 

Elizabeth, who knew this to be levelled at Mr. Darcy, was

in such misery of shame, that she could hardly keep her seat.

It drew from her, however, the exertion of speaking, which

nothing else had so effectually done before; and she asked

Bingley whether he meant to make any stay in the country at

present. A few weeks, he believed.

 

"When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,"

said her mother, "I beg you will come here, and shoot as

many as you please on Mr. Bennet's manor. I am sure he

will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the

best of the covies for you."

 

Elizabeth's misery increased, at such unnecessary, such

officious attention! Were the same fair prospect to arise at

present as had flattered them a year ago, every thing, she was

persuaded, would be hastening to the same vexatious conclusion.

At that instant, she felt that years of happiness could not

make Jane or herself amends for moments of such painful

confusion.

 

"The first wish of my heart," said she to herself, "is never

more to be in company with either of them. Their society can

afford no pleasure that will atone for such wretchedness as

this! Let me never see either one or the other again!"

 

Yet the misery, for which years of happiness were to offer no

compensation, received soon afterwards material relief, from

observing how much the beauty of her sister re-kindled the

admiration of her former lover. When first he came in, he had

spoken to her but little; but every five minutes seemed to be

giving her more of his attention. He found her as handsome as

she had been last year; as good natured, and as unaffected,

though not quite so chatty. Jane was anxious that no

difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really

persuaded that she talked as much as ever. But her mind was

so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was

silent.

 

When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet was mindful of

her intended civility, and they were invited and engaged to

dine at Longbourn in a few days time.

 

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added,

"for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take

a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not

forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed

that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

 

Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection, and said

something of his concern at having been prevented by business.

They then went away.

 

Mrs. Bennet had been strongly inclined to ask them to stay and

dine there that day; but, though she always kept a very good

table, she did not think any thing less than two courses could

be good enough for a man on whom she had such anxious designs,

or satisfy the appetite and pride of one who had ten thousand a

year.

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XII (54)>

 

AS soon as they were gone, Elizabeth walked out to recover

her spirits; or in other words, to dwell without interruption

on those subjects that must deaden them more. Mr. Darcy's

behaviour astonished and vexed her.

 

"Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent,"

said she, "did he come at all?"

 

She could settle it in no way that gave her pleasure.

 

"He could be still amiable, still pleasing, to my uncle and

aunt, when he was in town; and why not to me? If he fears me,

why come hither? If he no longer cares for me, why silent?

Teazing, teazing, man! I will think no more about him."

 

Her resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by

the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful

look, which shewed her better satisfied with their visitors,

than Elizabeth.

 

"Now," said she, "that this first meeting is over, I feel

perfectly easy. I know my own strength, and I shall never be

embarrassed again by his coming. I am glad he dines here on

Tuesday. It will then be publicly seen that, on both sides,

we meet only as common and indifferent acquaintance."

 

"Yes, very indifferent indeed," said Elizabeth, laughingly.

"Oh, Jane, take care."

 

"My dear Lizzy, you cannot think me so weak, as to be in danger

now?"

 

"I think you are in very great danger of making him as much

in love with you as ever."

____

 

They did not see the gentlemen again till Tuesday; and

Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the

happy schemes, which the good humour and common politeness

of Bingley, in half an hour's visit, had revived.

 

On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn;

and the two who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of

their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When

they repaired to the dining-room, Elizabeth eagerly watched to

see whether Bingley would take the place, which, in all their

former parties, had belonged to him, by her sister. Her

prudent mother, occupied by the same ideas, forbore to invite

him to sit by herself. On entering the room, he seemed to

hesitate; but Jane happened to look round, and happened to

smile: it was decided. He placed himself by her.

 

Elizabeth, with a triumphant sensation, looked towards his

friend. He bore it with noble indifference, and she would have

imagined that Bingley had received his sanction to be happy,

had she not seen his eyes likewise turned towards Mr. Darcy,

with an expression of half-laughing alarm.

 

His behaviour to her sister was such, during dinner time, as

shewed an admiration of her, which, though more guarded than

formerly, persuaded Elizabeth, that if left wholly to himself,

Jane's happiness, and his own, would be speedily secured.

Though she dared not depend upon the consequence, she yet

received pleasure from observing his behaviour. It gave her

all the animation that her spirits could boast; for she was in

no cheerful humour. Mr. Darcy was almost as far from her as

the table could divide them. He was on one side of her mother.

She knew how little such a situation would give pleasure to

either, or make either appear to advantage. She was not near

enough to hear any of their discourse, but she could see how

seldom they spoke to each other, and how formal and cold was

their manner whenever they did. Her mother's ungraciousness,

made the sense of what they owed him more painful to

Elizabeth's mind; and she would, at times, have given any

thing to be privileged to tell him that his kindness was

neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of the family.

 

She was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity

of bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would

not pass away without enabling them to enter into something

more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation

attending his entrance. Anxious and uneasy, the period which

passed in the drawing-room, before the gentlemen came, was

wearisome and dull to a degree that almost made her uncivil.

She looked forward to their entrance as the point on which all

her chance of pleasure for the evening must depend.

 

"If he does not come to me, _then_," said she, "I shall give

him up for ever."

 

The gentlemen came; and she thought he looked as if he would

have answered her hopes; but, alas! the ladies had crowded

round the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea, and

Elizabeth pouring out the coffee, in so close a confederacy

that there was not a single vacancy near her which would admit

of a chair. And on the gentlemen's approaching, one of the

girls moved closer to her than ever, and said, in a whisper,

 

"The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. We want

none of them; do we?"

 

Darcy had walked away to another part of the room. She

followed him with her eyes, envied every one to whom he spoke,

had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee; and

then was enraged against herself for being so silly!

 

"A man who has once been refused! How could I ever be foolish

enough to expect a renewal of his love? Is there one among the

sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second

proposal to the same woman? There is no indignity so abhorrent

to their feelings!"

 

She was a little revived, however, by his bringing back his

coffee cup himself; and she seized the opportunity of saying,

 

"Is your sister at Pemberley still?"

 

"Yes, she will remain there till Christmas."

 

"And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?"

 

"Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to

Scarborough, these three weeks."

 

She could think of nothing more to say; but if he wished to

converse with her, he might have better success. He stood by

her, however, for some minutes, in silence; and, at last, on

the young lady's whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away.

 

When the tea-things were removed, and the card tables placed,

the ladies all rose, and Elizabeth was then hoping to be soon

joined by him, when all her views were overthrown by seeing him

fall a victim to her mother's rapacity for whist players, and

in a few moments after seated with the rest of the party. She

now lost every expectation of pleasure. They were confined for

the evening at different tables, and she had nothing to hope,

but that his eyes were so often turned towards her side of the

room, as to make him play as unsuccessfully as herself.

 

Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen

to supper; but their carriage was unluckily ordered before any

of the others, and she had no opportunity of detaining them.

 

"Well girls," said she, as soon as they were left to

themselves, "What say you to the day? I think every thing has

passed off uncommonly well, I assure you. The dinner was as

well dressed as any I ever saw. The venison was roasted to a

turn -- and everybody said they never saw so fat a haunch. The

soup was fifty times better than what we had at the Lucases'

last week; and even Mr. Darcy acknowledged, that the partridges

were remarkably well done; and I suppose he has two or three

French cooks at least. And, my dear Jane, I never saw you look

in greater beauty. Mrs. Long said so too, for I asked her

whether you did not. And what do you think she said besides?

``Ah! Mrs. Bennet, we shall have her at Netherfield at last.''

She did indeed. I do think Mrs. Long is as good a creature as

ever lived -- and her nieces are very pretty behaved girls, and

not at all handsome: I like them prodigiously."

 

Mrs. Bennet, in short, was in very great spirits; she had seen

enough of Bingley's behaviour to Jane, to be convinced that she

would get him at last; and her expectations of advantage to her

family, when in a happy humour, were so far beyond reason, that

she was quite disappointed at not seeing him there again the

next day, to make his proposals.

 

"It has been a very agreeable day," said Miss Bennet to

Elizabeth. "The party seemed so well selected, so suitable

one with the other. I hope we may often meet again."

 

Elizabeth smiled.

 

"Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me. It

mortifies me. I assure you that I have now learnt to enjoy

his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man,

without having a wish beyond it. I am perfectly satisfied,

from what his manners now are, that he never had any design

of engaging my affection. It is only that he is blessed

with greater sweetness of address, and a stronger desire of

generally pleasing, than any other man."

 

"You are very cruel," said her sister, "you will not let me

smile, and are provoking me to it every moment."

 

"How hard it is in some cases to be believed!"

 

"And how impossible in others!"

 

"But why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I

acknowledge?"

 

"That is a question which I hardly know how to answer. We all

love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth

knowing. Forgive me; and if you persist in indifference, do

not make me your confidante."

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XIII (55)>

 

A FEW days after this visit, Mr. Bingley called again, and

alone. His friend had left him that morning for London, but

was to return home in ten days time. He sat with them above an

hour, and was in remarkably good spirits. Mrs. Bennet invited

him to dine with them; but, with many expressions of concern,

he confessed himself engaged elsewhere.

 

"Next time you call," said she, "I hope we shall be more

lucky."

 

He should be particularly happy at any time, &c. &c.; and if

she would give him leave, would take an early opportunity of

waiting on them.

 

"Can you come to-morrow?"

 

Yes, he had no engagement at all for to-morrow; and her

invitation was accepted with alacrity.

 

He came, and in such very good time that the ladies were none

of them dressed. In ran Mrs. Bennet to her daughter's room, in

her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, crying out,

 

"My dear Jane, make haste and hurry down. He is come --

Mr. Bingley is come. -- He is, indeed. Make haste, make haste.

Here, Sarah, come to Miss Bennet this moment, and help her on

with her gown. Never mind Miss Lizzy's hair."

 

"We will be down as soon as we can," said Jane; "but I dare say

Kitty is forwarder than either of us, for she went up stairs

half an hour ago."

 

"Oh! hang Kitty! what has she to do with it? Come be quick,

be quick! Where is your sash, my dear?"

 

But when her mother was gone, Jane would not be prevailed on to

go down without one of her sisters.

 

The same anxiety to get them by themselves was visible again

in the evening. After tea, Mr. Bennet retired to the library,

as was his custom, and Mary went up stairs to her instrument.

Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet

sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a

considerable time, without making any impression on them.

Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last Kitty did,

she very innocently said, "What is the matter mamma? What do

you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?"

 

"Nothing child, nothing. I did not wink at you." She then sat

still five minutes longer; but unable to waste such a precious

occasion, she suddenly got up, and saying to Kitty, "Come here,

my love, I want to speak to you," took her out of the room.

Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her

distress at such premeditation, and her intreaty that _she_

would not give in to it. In a few minutes, Mrs. Bennet

half-opened the door and called out,

 

"Lizzy, my dear, I want to speak with you."

 

Elizabeth was forced to go.

 

"We may as well leave them by themselves you know;" said her

mother, as soon as she was in the hall. "Kitty and I are going

up stairs to sit in my dressing room."

 

Elizabeth made no attempt to reason with her mother, but

remained quietly in the hall, till she and Kitty were out of

sight, then returned into the drawing room.