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- from whence they were to set out early the next morning. The separation
between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic. Kitty was the
only one who shed tears; but she did weep from vexation and envy. Mrs.
Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter,
and impressive in her injunctions that she would not miss the
opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible,--advice which there
was every reason to believe would be attended to; and, in the clamorous
happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus
of her sisters were uttered without being heard.
[Illustration:
The arrival of the
Gardiners
]
CHAPTER XLII.
[Illustration]
Had Elizabeth’s opinion been all drawn from her own family, she could
not have formed a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic
comfort. Her father, captivated by youth and beauty, and that appearance
of good-humour which youth and beauty generally give, had married a
woman whose weak understanding and illiberal mind had very early in
their marriage put an end to all real affection for her. Respect,
esteem, and confidence had vanished for ever; and all his views of
domestic happiness were overthrown. But Mr. Bennet was not of a
disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own
imprudence had brought on in any of those pleasures which too often
console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice. He was fond of
the country and of books; and from these tastes had arisen his principal
enjoyments. To his wife he was very little otherwise indebted than as
her ignorance and folly had contributed to his amusement. This is not
the sort of happiness which a man would in general wish to owe to his
wife; but where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true
philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given.
Elizabeth, however, had never been blind to the impropriety of her
father’s behaviour as a husband. She had always seen it with pain; but
respecting his abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of
herself, she endeavoured to forget what she could not overlook, and to
banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation
and decorum which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own
children, was so highly reprehensible. But she had never felt so
strongly as now the disadvantages which must attend the children of so
unsuitable a marriage, nor ever been so fully aware of the evils arising
from so ill-judged a direction of talents--talents which, rightly used,
might at least have preserved the respectability of his daughters, even
if incapable of enlarging the mind of his wife.
When Elizabeth had rejoiced over Wickham’s departure, she found little
other cause for satisfaction in the loss of the regiment. Their parties
abroad were less varied than before; and at home she had a mother and
sister, whose constant repinings at the dulness of everything around
them threw a real gloom over their domestic circle; and, though Kitty
might in time regain her natural degree of sense, since the disturbers
of her brain were removed, her other sister, from whose disposition
greater evil might be apprehended, was likely to be hardened in all her
folly and assurance, by a situation of such double danger as a
watering-place and a camp. Upon the whole, therefore, she found, what
has been sometimes found before, that an event to which she had looked
forward with impatient desire, did not, in taking place, bring all the
satisfaction she had promised herself. It was consequently necessary to
name some other period for the commencement of actual felicity; to have
some other point on which her wishes and hopes might be fixed, and by
again enjoying the pleasure of anticipation, console herself for the
present, and prepare for another disappointment. Her tour to the Lakes
was now the object of her happiest thoughts: it was her best consolation
for all the uncomfortable hours which the discontentedness of her mother
and Kitty made inevitable; and could she have included Jane in the
scheme, every part of it would have been perfect.
“But it is fortunate,” thought she, “that I have something to wish for.
Were the whole arrangement complete, my disappointment would be certain.
But here, by carrying with me one ceaseless source of regret in my
sister’s absence, I may reasonably hope to have all my expectations of
pleasure realized. A scheme of which every part promises delight can
never be successful; and general disappointment is only warded off by
the defence of some little peculiar vexation.”
When Lydia went away she promised to write very often and very minutely
to her mother and Kitty; but her letters were always long expected, and
always very short. Those to her mother contained little else than that
they were just returned from the library, where such and such officers
had attended them, and where she had seen such beautiful ornaments as
made her quite wild; that she had a new gown, or a new parasol, which
she would have described more fully, but was obliged to leave off in a
violent hurry, as Mrs. Forster called her, and they were going to the
camp; and from her correspondence with her sister there was still less
to be learnt, for her letters to Kitty, though rather longer, were much
too full of lines under the words to be made public.
After the first fortnight or three weeks of her absence, health,
good-humour, and cheerfulness began to reappear at Longbourn. Everything
wore a happier aspect. The families who had been in town for the winter
came back again, and summer finery and summer engagements arose. Mrs.
Bennet was restored to her usual querulous serenity; and by the middle
of June Kitty was so much recovered as to be able to enter Meryton
without tears,--an event of such happy promise as to make Elizabeth
hope, that by the following Christmas she might be so tolerably
reasonable as not to mention an officer above once a day, unless, by
some cruel and malicious arrangement at the War Office, another regiment
should be quartered in Meryton.
The time fixed for the beginning of their northern tour was now fast
approaching; and a fortnight only was wanting of it, when a letter
arrived from Mrs. Gardiner, which at once delayed its commencement and
curtailed its extent. Mr. Gardiner would be prevented by business from
setting out till a fortnight later in July, and must be in London again
within a month; and as that left too short a period for them to go so
far, and see so much as they had proposed, or at least to see it with
the leisure and comfort they had built on, they were obliged to give up
the Lakes, and substitute a more contracted tour; and, according to the
present plan, were to go no farther northward than Derbyshire. In that
county there was enough to be seen to occupy the chief of their three
weeks; and to Mrs. Gardiner it had a peculiarly strong attraction. The
town where she had formerly passed some years of her life, and where
they were now to spend a few days, was probably as great an object of
her curiosity as all the celebrated beauties of Matlock, Chatsworth,
Dovedale, or the Peak.
Elizabeth was excessively disappointed: she had set her heart on seeing
the Lakes; and still thought there might have been time enough. But it
was her business to be satisfied--and certainly her temper to be happy;
and all was soon right again.
With the mention of Derbyshire, there were many ideas connected. It was
impossible for her to see the word without thinking of Pemberley and its
owner. “But surely,” said she, “I may enter his county with impunity,
and rob it of a few petrified spars, without his perceiving me.”
The period of expectation was now doubled. Four weeks were to pass away
before her uncle and aunt’s arrival. But they did pass away, and Mr. and
Mrs.