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- pride-and-prejudice
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- 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.