Chapter-14
When all the house had been seen, they returned downstairs and were given into the care of the gardener who met them at the hall door.
As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again. Her uncle and aunt stopped too and, while the former was wondering how old the building was, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road behind the stables.
They were within twenty yards of each other, and his appearance was so sudden that it was impossible to avoid him. Their eyes instantly met and the cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush. He stared, and for a moment seemed immovable from surprise; but at last he came towards the party and spoke to Elizabeth, if not calmly, at least with perfect courtesy.
She had turned away, but stopped as he approached and received him with embarrassment which it was impossible to overcome. Astonished and confused, she scarcely dared lift her eyes to his face and answer his polite enquiries about her family. She was amazed at the change in his manner since they last parted. The awkwardness of being found there at Pemberley was in her mind, and the few minutes they were together were the most uncomfortable of her life. Nor did he seem much at ease. He repeated his questions about her stay in Derbyshire so often that his thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
At last every idea seemed to fail him; and after standing a few moments without saying a word, he suddenly said goodbye and left her.
The others joined her and expressed their admiration of his appearance, but Elizabeth did not hear a word. She was overpowered by shame and annoyance. Her visit there was the most unfortunate, the most ill-judged thing in the world! How strange it must appear to him! It might seem as if she had purposely thrown herself in his way again! Oh, why had she come? Why did he come a day before he was expected? She blushed again and again over the ill luck of their meeting. And his behaviour was so remarkably altered, what could it mean?
On the next morning the sound of a carriage outside the inn drew them to a window and they saw a gentleman and a lady driving up the street. Elizabeth immediately guessed who it was and surprised her relations by telling them of the honour which she expected. Her aunt and uncle were amazed, and the embarrassment of her manner as she spoke, opened to them a new idea about the affair. Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they now felt that the only explanation of such attentions from such a person was that he had a liking for their niece. While these new ideas were passing in their heads, the anxiety of Elizabeth was increasing every moment. She was quite amazed at her own excitement. Amongst other causes she was afraid that Mr. Darcy had said too much in her favour. Because she was so anxious to please, she naturally feared that her ability to do so would fail her.
She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked up and down the room, trying to calm herself, she saw such looks of enquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt that made everything worse.
Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this alarming introduction took place. With astonishment Elizabeth saw that Miss Darcy was as embarrassed as herself. She had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud. After watching her a very few minutes she was convinced that the girl was only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain from her more than one word at a time. Miss Darcy was taller than Elizabeth and, though only sixteen, her appearance was womanly and graceful. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humour in her face, and her manners were perfectly natural and gentle.
They had not been long together before another quick step was heard on the stairs and Bingley entered the room. All Elizabeth’s anger against him had vanished long ago. But even if she had still felt any, it could not have survived against the warm friendliness with which he spoke. He enquired in a friendly way about her family and looked and spoke with the same good-humoured ease as ever.
He was as interesting to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner as to herself. They had long wished to see him. The whole party before them, indeed, aroused their lively attention. Their suspicions of Mr. Darcy and their niece made them watch each of them with care. They were soon convinced that one of them at least knew what it was to love. Of the lady’s feelings she remained a little in doubt, but it was clear that the gentleman was overflowing with admiration.
In seeing Bingley, Elizabeth’s thoughts naturally flew to her sister; and oh! how ardently she longed to know whether any of his thoughts were in the same direction. She watched his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as Jane’s rival. Nothing between them showed particular affection. Nothing between them justified the hope of Bingley’s sister. Two or three little remarks from him showed his remembrance of Jane—and a wish to talk more about her, if he had dared.
It was not often that Elizabeth could look at Mr. Darcy himself; but when she did she saw an expression of general goodwill. When she saw him thus in the company of people with whom, a few months ago, any conversation would have been a disgrace; when she saw him so polite to the very relations whom he had openly scorned—and remembered their last lively scene at Hunsford Parsonage—she could hardly hide her astonishment. Never had she seen him so anxious to please and so free of self-importance.
When the visitors rose to leave, Mr. Darcy and his sister asked Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet to dinner, two days later. Eager to be alone, and fearful of questions or hints from her uncle and aunt, Elizabeth stayed with them only long enough to hear their good opinion of Bingley. Then she hurried away. Her thoughts were at Pemberley all this evening. It was not long enough to decide her feelings towards Mr. Darcy. She lay awake two whole hours trying to make them out. She certainly did not hate him. Hatred had vanished long ago. She had long been ashamed of her dislike against him. The respect which came from knowledge of his good qualities was now willingly admitted. But above all, above respect, there was another reason for goodwill. It was gratitude, gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, but for still loving her enough to forgive her bitter rejection and her unjust accusations. Instead of avoiding her as his greatest enemy, he seemed eager to continue the acquaintance. Such a change in a man of so much pride aroused not only astonishment but gratitude—for it must be due to love, ardent love. She respected, she valued, she was grateful to him. She felt a real interest in his welfare. She was only unsure how far it would increase the happiness of both if she encouraged a renewal of his proposals.
