Pride and Prejudice (The Wild and Wanton Edition) (37 page)

“You will remember, Mr. Bingley,” she added, “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. 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. Though she always kept a very good table, she did not think anything 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.

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 behavior astonished and vexed her. Quite alone, she said, “Why, if he came only to be silent, grave, and indifferent did he come at all?”

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

“He could be still amiable to my uncle and aunt when he was in town, why not to me? If he fears me, why come hither?

If he no longer cares for me, why silent? Teasing, teasing, man! I will think no more about him.”

Her pathetic resolution was for a short time involuntarily kept by the approach of her sister, who joined her with a cheerful look, which showed her better satisfied with their visitors, than Elizabeth.

“Now,” said Jane, “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. Mrs. Bennet, in the meanwhile, was giving way to all the happy schemes, which the good humor and common politeness of Bingley in half-an-hour’s visit, had revived.

On Tuesday there was a large party assembled at Longbourn. The two who were most anxiously expected, to the credit of their punctuality as sportsmen, were in very good time. When they went 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 behavior to her sister showed 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 it, she received pleasure from observing them. It gave her all the animation that her spirits could boast, for she was in no cheerful humor. 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. At times, she would have given anything to be privileged to tell him that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of the family.

She hoped the evening would afford some opportunity of bringing them together, and that the visit would not pass without enabling them to enter into conversation beyond 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 all her chance of pleasure for the evening depended on it.

To herself, she whispered, “If he does not come to me, I shall give him up forever.”

The gentlemen came in. She thought Darcy looked as if he would answer her hope, but, alas, the ladies had crowded round the table where Miss Bennet was making tea and Elizabeth pouring coffee. There was not a single vacancy near her which would admit of a chair. And on the gentlemen’s approaching, Kitty 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 walked to another part of the room. She followed him with her eyes, envied everyone to whom he spoke, and had scarcely patience enough to help anybody to coffee.

She became enraged against herself for being silly. How could she expect a man who had been once refused to seek her out? How could she be foolish enough to expect a renewal of his love? Was there one among the male sex, who would not protest against such a weakness as a second proposal to the same woman?

She was a little revived from her dejection when he brought back his coffee cup. She seized the opportunity by 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. If he wished to converse with her, he might have better success, but he stood by her for some minutes in silence. Then, on Kitty’s whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away.

Mrs. Bennet had designed to keep the two Netherfield gentlemen for 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 everything has passed off uncommonly well. 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. 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 she agreed with me.”

Mrs. Bennet was in very great spirits. She had seen enough of Bingley’s behavior towards Jane to be convinced that she would get him at last, and her expectations of advantage to her family were so far beyond reason, that she was disappointed at not seeing him there again the next day to make his proposals.

“It has been a very agreeable day,” said Jane to Elizabeth. “The party seemed 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. I assure you that I have now learned 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.”

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.”

“I should be particularly happy at any time, and if you would give me leave, I will take an early opportunity of accepting your offer.”

“Can you come tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Mr. Bingley agreed. “I have no engagement at all for tomorrow. I would be delighted.”

When he arrived the following day, the ladies were not dressed. Mrs. Bennet ran into her daughter’s room in her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished, cried out, “My dear Jane, make haste. He is come — Mr. Bingley is come. 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 daresay 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. 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 said to Kitty, “Come here, my love, I want to speak to you,” and took her out of the room. Jane instantly gave a look at Elizabeth which spoke her distress at such premeditation, and her entreaty 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 upstairs 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.

Mrs. Bennet’s schemes for this day were ineffectual. Bingley was everything 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 for supper. 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. Mr. Bennet 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 everybody 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.

With her dear sister gone to write a letter, and the others of the house banished by the schemes of her mother, Jane found herself alone with Mr. Bingley. When he was not around, she tried to tell herself she was happy with their friendship. But, whenever she was in his presence, her heart would beat and her world would become a dizzying spin that only settled when she looked upon his face.

As he stood from the couch, he did not move for a long time. He alternated between gazing into her eyes with his mouth half-open in silenced speech, and staring at the floor as if trying to reclaim the words that had fallen out unspoken. She wondered at his manner, but was patient enough to give him time, for she could not imagine what was putting such a charming man so out of sorts.

When he did not quickly speak, she ventured to say, “It is good the weather stayed warm for your sport this morn —”

“Marry me,” Bingley blurted. Jane instantly stood. Her face must have been very pale in her surprise for he instantly stepped back from her and began to apologize. “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, that was not well said at all. I find each time when I try to get the nerve to ask you, I cannot think in a logical way.”

“You,” she managed breathlessly, but no more followed.

“I had prepared a speech,” he said more to himself than her. Then, looking at her in earnest, he asked, “Should you like to hear it?”

Jane smiled, nodding eagerly. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she stepped closer to him. He was near the hearth, outlined by the orange light of fire.

He opened his mouth, and then laughed, the same happy sound that had first stirred her heart towards him. “I look at you and I cannot remember. However, I will promise you that if you have me, I will endeavor to remember every complement I wished to pay you and will write it down so I may read it to you later.”

She smiled. “I would like to hear it read.”

Then, giving a nervous laugh, he glanced around the room and took a knee. Jane looked down at his face, hardly able to believe he was looking up at her. She trembled violently as he reached to take her hand in his. “First, I must again beg your forgiveness. This event is not going as I have wished it to in my head. However, if you can see fit to forgive me, and will have me as your husband, I will endeavor to say all the right things in the future, though I can hardly promise to do as much as you will often fluster me with just one of your smiles. You see, my dear Miss Bennet, I am — I have been since the very first moment I saw you — deeply in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you smile at me. I was incomprehensibly foolish to have left you before, but I cannot stand to lose you again. I love you. I love you and I am asking that you marry me.”

It was not the most perfect of speeches, but there was something to his rush of eager words that captured Jane’s heart and she did not notice a single flaw in its delivery. Happily, she nodded her head, whispering a faint, “Yes, yes.”

Bingley grinned, surging to his feet. She naturally drew closer to him, and his hands went effortlessly to her waist, drawing her closer still. His lips met hers and she gasped at that first intimate contact to pass between them. At first, they did not move, but slowly, as she learned the feel of a man’s kiss, she let the sensations of it overtake her. Just as they began to move their lips, the sound of the door latch opening pried them quickly apart. Stunned, Jane automatically smoothed her skirts along her waist, though they were not wrinkled. Bingley laughed nervously, but took a step back, unable to hide his happy grin.

Elizabeth, having finished her letter, returned to the drawing room, and saw, to her infinite surprise, there was reason to fear that her mother had been too ingenious in her plans to leave Jane and Mr. Bingley alone. On opening the door, she perceived her sister and Bingley standing together over the hearth, as if engaged in earnest conversation. This led to no suspicion for, as they hastily turned round and moved away from each other to sit down, the faces of both told it all. Their situation was awkward enough, but Elizabeth thought hers was still worse. Not a syllable was uttered by either. Elizabeth was on the point of going away again, when Bingley 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. Instantly embracing her sister, Jane acknowledged, with the liveliest emotion, “I am the happiest creature in the world. Bingley has asked and I have accepted. I wish I could remember every line of what he said, but it was very prettily done and —‘tis by far too much! I cannot deserve it. Oh, why is everybody not 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,” Jane declared. “I would not on any account trifle with her affectionate solicitude, or allow her to hear it from anyone 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 the affair was finally settled, especially since it 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. This, 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.”

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. Then, till her sister came down, she listened to all he had to say of his own happiness, and of Jane’s perfections. In spite of his being so deeply in love, 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 sister and himself.

It was an evening of no common delight to them all. The satisfaction of Jane’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. Mr. Bennet joined them at supper, his voice and manner plainly showed 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. 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.”

Jane could but smile.

“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. 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 and Lydia were forgotten. Jane was beyond competition her favorite 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.