JANE AUSTEN 26 страница

 

Mrs. Bennet's schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley

was every thing that was charming, except the professed lover

of her daughter. His ease and cheerfulness rendered him a

most agreeable addition to their evening party; and he bore

with the ill-judged officiousness of the mother, and heard all

her silly remarks with a forbearance and command of countenance

particularly grateful to the daughter.

 

He scarcely needed an invitation to stay supper; and before he

went away, an engagement was formed, chiefly through his own

and Mrs. Bennet's means, for his coming next morning to shoot

with her husband.

 

After this day, Jane said no more of her indifference.

Not a word passed between the sisters concerning Bingley; but

Elizabeth went to bed in the happy belief that all must

speedily be concluded, unless Mr. Darcy returned within the

stated time. Seriously, however, she felt tolerably persuaded

that all this must have taken place with that gentleman's

concurrence.

 

Bingley was punctual to his appointment; and he and Mr. Bennet

spent the morning together, as had been agreed on. The latter

was much more agreeable than his companion expected. There was

nothing of presumption or folly in Bingley that could provoke

his ridicule, or disgust him into silence; and he was more

communicative, and less eccentric, than the other had ever seen

him. Bingley of course returned with him to dinner; and in the

evening Mrs. Bennet's invention was again at work to get every

body away from him and her daughter. Elizabeth, who had a

letter to write, went into the breakfast room for that purpose

soon after tea; for as the others were all going to sit down to

cards, she could not be wanted to counteract her mother's

schemes.

 

But on returning to the drawing room, when her letter was

finished, she saw, to her infinite surprise, there was

reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious for

her. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and

Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in

earnest conversation; and had this led to no suspicion, the

faces of both, as they hastily turned round and moved away

from each other, would have told it all. _Their_ situation

was awkward enough; but _her's_ she thought was still worse.

Not a syllable was uttered by either; and Elizabeth was on

the point of going away again, when Bingley, who as well as

the other had sat down, suddenly rose, and whispering a few

words to her sister, ran out of the room.

 

Jane could have no reserves from Elizabeth, where confidence

would give pleasure; and instantly embracing her, acknowledged,

with the liveliest emotion, that she was the happiest creature

in the world.

 

"'Tis too much!" she added, "by far too much. I do not

deserve it. Oh! why is not every body as happy?"

 

Elizabeth's congratulations were given with a sincerity, a

warmth, a delight, which words could but poorly express. Every

sentence of kindness was a fresh source of happiness to Jane.

But she would not allow herself to stay with her sister, or say

half that remained to be said for the present.

 

"I must go instantly to my mother;" she cried. "I would not on

any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude; or allow

her to hear it from any one but myself. He is gone to my

father already. Oh! Lizzy, to know that what I have to relate

will give such pleasure to all my dear family! how shall I

bear so much happiness!"

 

She then hastened away to her mother, who had purposely broken

up the card party, and was sitting up stairs with Kitty.

 

Elizabeth, who was left by herself, now smiled at the rapidity

and ease with which an affair was finally settled, that had

given them so many previous months of suspense and vexation.

 

"And this," said she, "is the end of all his friend's anxious

circumspection! of all his sister's falsehood and contrivance!

the happiest, wisest, most reasonable end!"

 

In a few minutes she was joined by Bingley, whose conference

with her father had been short and to the purpose.

 

"Where is your sister?" said he hastily, as he opened the door.

 

"With my mother up stairs. She will be down in a moment,

I dare say."

 

He then shut the door, and, coming up to her, claimed the good

wishes and affection of a sister. Elizabeth honestly and

heartily expressed her delight in the prospect of their

relationship. They shook hands with great cordiality; and

then, till her sister came down, she had to listen to all he

had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane's perfections;

and in spite of his being a lover, Elizabeth really believed

all his expectations of felicity to be rationally founded,

because they had for basis the excellent understanding, and

super-excellent disposition of Jane, and a general similarity

of feeling and taste between her and himself.

 

It was an evening of no common delight to them all; the

satisfaction of Miss Bennet's mind gave a glow of such sweet

animation to her face, as made her look handsomer than ever.

Kitty simpered and smiled, and hoped her turn was coming soon.

Mrs. Bennet could not give her consent or speak her approbation

in terms warm enough to satisfy her feelings, though she talked

to Bingley of nothing else for half an hour; and when Mr.

Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly

shewed how really happy he was.

 

Not a word, however, passed his lips in allusion to it, till

their visitor took his leave for the night; but as soon as he

was gone, he turned to his daughter, and said,

 

"Jane, I congratulate you. You will be a very happy woman."

 

Jane went to him instantly, kissed him, and thanked him for his

goodness.

 

"You are a good girl;" he replied, "and I have great pleasure

in thinking you will be so happily settled. I have not a doubt

of your doing very well together. Your tempers are by no means

unlike. You are each of you so complying, that nothing will

ever be resolved on; so easy, that every servant will cheat

you; and so generous, that you will always exceed your income."

 

"I hope not so. Imprudence or thoughtlessness in money matters

would be unpardonable in _me_."

 

"Exceed their income! My dear Mr. Bennet," cried his wife,

"what are you talking of? Why, he has four or five thousand a

year, and very likely more." Then addressing her daughter,

"Oh! my dear, dear Jane, I am so happy! I am sure I shan't

get a wink of sleep all night. I knew how it would be. I

always said it must be so, at last. I was sure you could not

be so beautiful for nothing! I remember, as soon as ever I saw

him, when he first came into Hertfordshire last year, I thought

how likely it was that you should come together. Oh! he is

the handsomest young man that ever was seen!"

 

Wickham, Lydia, were all forgotten. Jane was beyond

competition her favourite child. At that moment, she cared

for no other. Her younger sisters soon began to make interest

with her for objects of happiness which she might in future be

able to dispense.

 

Mary petitioned for the use of the library at Netherfield; and

Kitty begged very hard for a few balls there every winter.

 

Bingley, from this time, was of course a daily visitor at

Longbourn; coming frequently before breakfast, and always

remaining till after supper; unless when some barbarous

neighbour, who could not be enough detested, had given him

an invitation to dinner which he thought himself obliged to

accept.

 

Elizabeth had now but little time for conversation with her

sister; for while he was present, Jane had no attention to

bestow on any one else; but she found herself considerably

useful to both of them in those hours of separation that must

sometimes occur. In the absence of Jane, he always attached

himself to Elizabeth, for the pleasure of talking of her; and

when Bingley was gone, Jane constantly sought the same means

of relief.

 

"He has made me so happy," said she, one evening, "by telling

me that he was totally ignorant of my being in town last

spring! I had not believed it possible."

 

"I suspected as much," replied Elizabeth. "But how did he

account for it?"

 

"It must have been his sister's doing. They were certainly no

friends to his acquaintance with me, which I cannot wonder at,

since he might have chosen so much more advantageously in many

respects. But when they see, as I trust they will, that their

brother is happy with me, they will learn to be contented, and

we shall be on good terms again; though we can never be what we

once were to each other."

 

"That is the most unforgiving speech," said Elizabeth, "that

I ever heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed,

to see you again the dupe of Miss Bingley's pretended regard."

 

"Would you believe it, Lizzy, that when he went to town last

November, he really loved me, and nothing but a persuasion of

_my_ being indifferent would have prevented his coming down

again!"

 

"He made a little mistake to be sure; but it is to the credit

of his modesty."

 

This naturally introduced a panegyric from Jane on his

diffidence, and the little value he put on his own good

qualities. Elizabeth was pleased to find that he had not

betrayed the interference of his friend; for, though Jane had

the most generous and forgiving heart in the world, she knew

it was a circumstance which must prejudice her against him.

 

"I am certainly the most fortunate creature that ever existed!"

cried Jane. "Oh! Lizzy, why am I thus singled from my family,

and blessed above them all! If I could but see _you_ as happy!

If there _were_ but such another man for you!"

 

"If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so

happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness,

I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for

myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet

with another Mr. Collins in time."

 

The situation of affairs in the Longbourn family could not be

long a secret. Mrs. Bennet was privileged to whisper it to

Mrs. Philips, and _she_ ventured, without any permission, to do

the same by all her neighbours in Meryton.

 

The Bennets were speedily pronounced to be the luckiest family

in the world, though only a few weeks before, when Lydia had

first run away, they had been generally proved to be marked out

for misfortune.

 

__

 

<CHAPTER XIV (56)>

 

ONE morning, about a week after Bingley's engagement with

Jane had been formed, as he and the females of the family

were sitting together in the dining room, their attention

was suddenly drawn to the window, by the sound of a carriage;

and they perceived a chaise and four driving up the lawn.

It was too early in the morning for visitors, and besides, the

equipage did not answer to that of any of their neighbours.

The horses were post; and neither the carriage, nor the livery

of the servant who preceded it, were familiar to them. As it

was certain, however, that somebody was coming, Bingley

instantly prevailed on Miss Bennet to avoid the confinement of

such an intrusion, and walk away with him into the shrubbery.

They both set off, and the conjectures of the remaining three

continued, though with little satisfaction, till the door was

thrown open and their visitor entered. It was Lady Catherine

de Bourgh.

 

They were of course all intending to be surprised; but their

astonishment was beyond their expectation; and on the part of

Mrs. Bennet and Kitty, though she was perfectly unknown to

them, even inferior to what Elizabeth felt.

 

She entered the room with an air more than usually ungracious,

made no other reply to Elizabeth's salutation than a slight

inclination of the head, and sat down without saying a word.

Elizabeth had mentioned her name to her mother on her

ladyship's entrance, though no request of introduction had been

made.

 

Mrs. Bennet, all amazement, though flattered by having a

guest of such high importance, received her with the utmost

politeness. After sitting for a moment in silence, she said

very stiffly to Elizabeth,

 

"I hope you are well, Miss Bennet. That lady, I suppose,

is your mother."

 

Elizabeth replied very concisely that she was.

 

"And that I suppose is one of your sisters."

 

"Yes, madam," said Mrs. Bennet, delighted to speak to a Lady

Catherine. "She is my youngest girl but one. My youngest of

all is lately married, and my eldest is somewhere about the

grounds, walking with a young man who, I believe, will soon

become a part of the family."

 

"You have a very small park here," returned Lady Catherine

after a short silence.

 

"It is nothing in comparison of Rosings, my lady, I dare say;

but I assure you it is much larger than Sir William Lucas's."

 

"This must be a most inconvenient sitting room for the evening,

in summer; the windows are full west."

 

Mrs. Bennet assured her that they never sat there after dinner,

and then added,

 

"May I take the liberty of asking your ladyship whether you

left Mr. and Mrs. Collins well."

 

"Yes, very well. I saw them the night before last."

 

Elizabeth now expected that she would produce a letter for

her from Charlotte, as it seemed the only probable motive for

her calling. But no letter appeared, and she was completely

puzzled.

 

Mrs. Bennet, with great civility, begged her ladyship to take

some refreshment; but Lady Catherine very resolutely, and not

very politely, declined eating any thing; and then, rising up,

said to Elizabeth,

 

"Miss Bennet, there seemed to be a prettyish kind of a little

wilderness on one side of your lawn. I should be glad to take

a turn in it, if you will favour me with your company."

 

"Go, my dear," cried her mother, "and shew her ladyship about

the different walks. I think she will be pleased with the

hermitage."

 

Elizabeth obeyed, and running into her own room for her

parasol, attended her noble guest down stairs. As they passed

through the hall, Lady Catherine opened the doors into the

dining-parlour and drawing-room, and pronouncing them, after a

short survey, to be decent looking rooms, walked on.

 

Her carriage remained at the door, and Elizabeth saw that her

waiting-woman was in it. They proceeded in silence along the

gravel walk that led to the copse; Elizabeth was determined to

make no effort for conversation with a woman who was now more

than usually insolent and disagreeable.

 

"How could I ever think her like her nephew?" said she, as she

looked in her face.

 

As soon as they entered the copse, Lady Catherine began in the

following manner: --

 

"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason

of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience,

must tell you why I come."

 

Elizabeth looked with unaffected astonishment.

 

"Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been at all able

to account for the honour of seeing you here."

 

"Miss Bennet," replied her ladyship, in an angry tone, "you

ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. But however

insincere _you_ may choose to be, you shall not find _me_ so.

My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and

frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall

certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming

nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your

sister was on the point of being most advantageously married,

but that _you_, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all

likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew, my own

nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I _know_ it must be a scandalous

falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose

the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off

for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you."

 

"If you believed it impossible to be true," said Elizabeth,

colouring with astonishment and disdain, "I wonder you took the

trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by

it?"

 

"At once to insist upon having such a report universally

contradicted."

 

"Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family," said

Elizabeth coolly, "will be rather a confirmation of it; if,

indeed, such a report is in existence."

 

"If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not

been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know

that such a report is spread abroad?"

 

"I never heard that it was."

 

"And can you likewise declare, that there is no _foundation_

for it?"

 

"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your

ladyship. _You_ may ask questions which _I_ shall not

choose to answer."

 

"This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist on being

satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of

marriage?"

 

"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible."

 

"It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of

his reason. But _your_ arts and allurements may, in a moment

of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself

and to all his family. You may have drawn him in."

 

"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it."

 

"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed

to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he

has in the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest

concerns."

 

"But you are not entitled to know _mine_; nor will such

behaviour as this, ever induce me to be explicit."

 

"Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have

the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never.

Mr. Darcy is engaged to _my_ _daughter_. Now what have you to

say?"

 

"Only this; that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose

he will make an offer to me."

 

Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied,

 

"The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their

infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the

favourite wish of _his_ mother, as well as of her's. While in

their cradles, we planned the union: and now, at the moment

when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their

marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth,

of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the

family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends?

To his tacit engagement with Miss De Bourgh? Are you lost to

every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard

me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his

cousin?"

 

"Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If

there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall

certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and

aunt wished him to marry Miss De Bourgh. You both did as much

as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended

on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination

confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice?

And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him?"

 

"Because honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, forbid it.

Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed

by his family or friends, if you wilfully act against the

inclinations of all. You will be censured, slighted, and

despised, by every one connected with him. Your alliance will

be a disgrace; your name will never even be mentioned by any

of us."

 

"These are heavy misfortunes," replied Elizabeth. "But the

wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of

happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she

could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine."

 

"Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this

your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is

nothing due to me on that score? Let us sit down. You are to

understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined

resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded

from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims.

I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment."

 

"_That_ will make your ladyship's situation at present more

pitiable; but it will have no effect on _me_."

 

"I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. My daughter

and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended,

on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the

father's, from respectable, honourable, and ancient -- though

untitled -- families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid.

They are destined for each other by the voice of every member

of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The

upstart pretensions of a young woman without family,

connections, or fortune. Is this to be endured! But it

must not, shall not be. If you were sensible of your own

good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you

have been brought up."

 

"In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as

quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman's

daughter; so far we are equal."

 

"True. You _are_ a gentleman's daughter. But who was your

mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me

ignorant of their condition."

 

"Whatever my connections may be," said Elizabeth, "if your

nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to _you_."

 

"Tell me once for all, are you engaged to him?"

 

Though Elizabeth would not, for the mere purpose of obliging

Lady Catherine, have answered this question, she could not but

say, after a moment's deliberation,

 

"I am not."

 

Lady Catherine seemed pleased.

 

"And will you promise me, never to enter into such an

engagement?"

 

"I will make no promise of the kind."

 

"Miss Bennet I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find a

more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into

a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you

have given me the assurance I require."

 

"And I certainly never shall give it. I am not to be

intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your

ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter; but would

my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage at

all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me,

would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow

it on his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the

arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary

application have been as frivolous as the application was

ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you

think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these.

How far your nephew might approve of your interference in

_his_ affairs, I cannot tell; but you have certainly no

right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore,

to be importuned no farther on the subject."

 

"Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done.

To all the objections I have already urged, I have still

another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of your

youngest sister's infamous elopement. I know it all; that

the young man's marrying her was a patched-up business, at

the expence of your father and uncles. And is _such_ a girl

to be my nephew's sister? Is _her_ husband, is the son of

his late father's steward, to be his brother? Heaven and

earth! -- of what are you thinking? Are the shades of

Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

 

"You can _now_ have nothing farther to say," she resentfully

answered. "You have insulted me in every possible method.

I must beg to return to the house."

 

And she rose as she spoke. Lady Catherine rose also, and they

turned back. Her ladyship was highly incensed.

 

"You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of my

nephew! Unfeeling, selfish girl! Do you not consider that

a connection with you must disgrace him in the eyes of

everybody?"

 

"Lady Catherine, I have nothing farther to say. You know my

sentiments."

 

"You are then resolved to have him?"

 

"I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that

manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness,

without reference to you, or to any person so wholly

unconnected with me."

 

"It is well. You refuse, then, to oblige me. You refuse to