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- pride-and-prejudice
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- and the kind of half-expectation which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of
their being followed by a letter from him, had ended in nothing.
Elizabeth had received none since her return, that could come from
Pemberley.
The present unhappy state of the family rendered any other excuse for
the lowness of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be
fairly conjectured from _that_,--though Elizabeth, who was by this time
tolerably well acquainted with her own feelings, was perfectly aware
that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could have borne the dread of
Lydia’s infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her, she thought,
one sleepless night out of two.
When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual
philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the
habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him
away; and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of
it.
It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that
Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly
expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say
nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing,
and I ought to feel it.”
“You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth.
“You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to
fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have
been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression.
It will pass away soon enough.”
“Do you suppose them to be in London?”
“Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?”
“And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty.
“She is happy, then,” said her father, drily; “and her residence there
will probably be of some duration.”
Then, after a short silence, he continued, “Lizzy, I bear you no
ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which,
considering the event, shows some greatness of mind.”
They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother’s
tea.
“This is a parade,” cried he, “which does one good; it gives such an
elegance to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my
library, in my nightcap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as
I can,--or perhaps I may defer it till Kitty runs away.”
“I am not going to run away, papa,” said Kitty, fretfully. “If _I_
should ever go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia.”
“_You_ go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne,
for fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at least learnt to be cautious, and
you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house
again, nor even to pass through the village. Balls will be absolutely
prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are
never to stir out of doors, till you can prove that you have spent ten
minutes of every day in a rational manner.”
Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.
“Well, well,” said he, “do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good
girl for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of
them.”
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XLIX.
[Illustration]
Two days after Mr. Bennet’s return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking
together in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper
coming towards them, and concluding that she came to call them to their
mother, went forward to meet her; but instead of the expected summons,
when they approached her, she said to Miss Bennet, “I beg your pardon,
madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes you might have got some
good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to ask.”
“What do you mean, Hill? We have heard nothing from town.”
“Dear madam,” cried Mrs. Hill, in great astonishment, “don’t you know
there is an express come for master from Mr. Gardiner? He has been here
this half hour, and master has had a letter.”
Away ran the girls, too eager to get in to have time for speech. They
ran through the vestibule into the breakfast-room; from thence to the
library;--their father was in neither; and they were on the point of
seeking him upstairs with their mother, when they were met by the
butler, who said,--
“If you are looking for my master, ma’am, he is walking towards the
little copse.”
Upon this information, they instantly passed through the hall once more,
and ran across the lawn after their father, who was deliberately
pursuing his way towards a small wood on one side of the paddock.
Jane, who was not so light, nor so much in the habit of running as
Elizabeth, soon lagged behind, while her sister, panting for breath,
came up with him, and eagerly cried out,--
“Oh, papa, what news? what news? have you heard from my uncle?”
“Yes, I have had a letter from him by express.”
“Well, and what news does it bring--good or bad?”
“What is there of good to be expected?” said he, taking the letter from
his pocket; “but perhaps you would like to read it.”
Elizabeth impatiently caught it from his hand. Jane now came up.
“Read it aloud,” said their father, “for I hardly know myself what it is
about.”
/* RIGHT “Gracechurch Street, _Monday, August 2_. */
“My dear Brother,
“At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece, and such
as, upon the whole, I hope will give you satisfaction. Soon after
you left me on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to find out in what
part of London they were. The particulars I reserve till we meet.
It is enough to know they are discovered: I have seen them
both----”
[Illustration:
“But perhaps you would like to read it”
[_Copyright 1894 by George Allen._]]
“Then it is as I always hoped,” cried Jane: “they are married!”
Elizabeth read on: “I have seen them both. They are not married,
nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are
willing to perform the engagements which I have ventured to make on
your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is
required of you is, to assure to your daughter, by settlement, her
equal share of the five thousand pounds, secured among your
children after the decease of yourself and my sister; and,
moreover, to enter into an engagement of allowing her, during your
life, one hundred pounds per annum. These are conditions which,
considering everything, I had no hesitation in complying with, as
far as I thought myself privileged, for you. I shall send this by
express, that no time may be lost in bringing me your answer. You
will easily comprehend, from these particulars, that Mr. Wickham’s
circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to
be. The world has been deceived in that respect; and I am happy to
say, there will be some little money, even when all his debts are
discharged, to settle on my niece, in addition to her own fortune.
If, as I conclude will be the case, you send me full powers to act
in your name throughout the whole of this business, I will
immediately give directions to Haggerston for preparing a proper
settlement. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming
to town again; therefore stay quietly at Longbourn, and depend on
my diligence and care. Send back your answer as soon as you can,
and be careful to write explicitly. We have judged it best that my
niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will
approve. She comes to us to-day. I shall write again as soon as
anything more is determined on. Yours, etc.
“EDW.