Chapter-15
The next morning Mrs. Gardiner and her niece decided that they ought to imitate Miss Darcy’s courtesy in coming to see them on the day of her arrival at Pemberley. Therefore it was agreed that they would visit her at once, while Mr. Gardiner was fishing with some of the gentlemen from Pemberley.
On reaching the house they were shown through the hall into the drawing room. Its windows, opening to the ground, gave a lovely view of the high woody hills behind the house and the beautiful trees scattered over the lawn. In this room, they were received by Miss Darcy who was sitting there with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley and the lady with whom she lived in London, Mrs. Annesley. Georgiana received them very politely, but with the embarrassment which came from shyness.
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley noticed them only with a curtsey and after they had all sat down an awkward pause followed. It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, an agreeable-looking woman whose attempt to start some conversation proved her to be more well bred than either of the others. Between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from Elizabeth, the conversation was carried on. Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes she did say a short sentence, when there was no danger of its being heard.
Elizabeth soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley. After sitting for a quarter of an hour Elizabeth was aroused by hearing from her a cold enquiry about her family. She answered with equal indifference and the other said no more.
The next event was the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake and all the finest fruits of the season. There was now employment for the whole party; for though they could not all talk, they could all eat. The beautiful grapes, apricots and peaches soon gathered them round the table.
While they were there Mr. Darcy entered the room. He had been with Mr. Gardiner and had only left him on learning that the ladies were visiting Georgiana that morning.
No sooner did he appear than Elizabeth wisely resolved to be perfectly easy and unembarrassed. She saw that the suspicions of the whole party were awakened against them. Nearly every eye watched his behaviour when he first came into the room. No one’s curiosity was so open as was Miss Bingley’s, in spite of the smiles which spread over her face when she spoke to Mr. Darcy. For jealousy had not yet made her desperate and her attentions to Mr. Darcy were not yet over. In rash anger, however, she soon said with sneering civility, “Have the soldiers left Meryton yet, Miss Elizabeth?”
“They must be a great loss to your family.”
In Darcy’s presence she dared not mention Wickham’s name, but Elizabeth instantly understood that he was in her thoughts. With an effort she answered calmly the ill-natured attack. While she spoke she saw Darcy, with an angry flush, watching her. His sister, overcome with embarrassment, was unable to lift up her eyes. Miss Bingley had no idea what pain she was giving her beloved friend. She had merely intended to embarrass Elizabeth by mentioning the man of whom she believed she was fond—and perhaps to remind Darcy of all the follies and absurdities of Elizabeth’s family.
Elizabeth’s calm, however, soon quietened Darcy’s emotion, and his thoughts seemed fixed on Elizabeth even more cheerfully.
Their visit did not continue much longer. While Mr. Darcy took them to their carriage Miss Bingley was criticizing Elizabeth’s appearance, behaviour and dress. But Georgiana would not join her. Her brother’s preference was enough. He could never be wrong, and he had spoken of Elizabeth in such words that Georgiana could only find her lovely and amiable. When Darcy returned Miss Bingley could not help repeat to him some of what she had been saying to his sister.
Elizabeth had been very disappointed on not finding a letter from Jane on their first arrival at Lambton. On the third day, however, she received two letters from her at once, one of which had been sent to the wrong address. Elizabeth was not surprised as Jane had written the address remarkably badly.
Her uncle and aunt were just going out for a walk as the letters came in. Leaving her to enjoy them in quiet atmosphere they set out by themselves. The one wrongly addressed was read first. It had been written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their little parties; but the second half, which was written a day later, in evident agitation, gave more important news.
“Since writing the above, dearest Elizabeth, something has happened which is most unexpected and serious. An express letter came at twelve last night, when we had all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster to inform us that Lydia has gone off to Scotland with one of his officers; to tell the truth, with Wickham! Imagine our surprise. I am very, very sorry! So unwise a marriage on both sides! I am willing to hope the best and that his character has been misunderstood. His choice is not mercenary at least, for he must know that my father can give her nothing. Our poor mother is sadly grieved. My father bears it better. I must end, for I cannot be long from my poor mother…….”
Without waiting to think Elizabeth instantly seized the other letter and, opening it with the utmost impatience read the following, which had been written a day later: “Dearest Elizabeth, I hardly know what to write, but I have bad news for you and it cannot be delayed. A marriage between Mr. Wickham and our poor Lydia would be unwise enough, but we are now anxious to get news that it has taken place. There is too much reason to fear they have not gone to Scotland. Colonel Forster came yesterday, not many hours after his letter. Lydia’s short letter to Mrs. Forster suggested they were going to Gretna Green. But Colonel Forster heard from another officer that Wickham never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all. Colonel Forster has traced them as far as London, but cannot find that they passed through. Our distress, dear Elizabeth, is very great. My father and mother believe the worst, but I cannot think so ill of him. Even if he could make such a plan, can Lydia do anything so wrong? Impossible! I grieve to find, however, that Colonel Forster does not believe in their marriage. He shook his head when I expressed my hopes, and said that Wickham could not be trusted. My poor mother is really ill and keeps to her room. As to my father, I have never in my life seen him so upset. I cannot help earnestly begging you all to come here as soon as possible. I know my dear uncle and aunt are so well that I am not afraid to ask it. My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly to try to find her. What he means to do I do not know; but in his excessive distress he may not adopt the best and safest plan. In such circumstances my uncle’s advice and assistance would be everything in the world. He will immediately understand what I must feel and I rely upon his goodness.”
“Oh, where, where is my uncle? cried Elizabeth, darting from her seat as she finished the letter in eagerness to follow him without losing a moment of precious time; but as she reached the door it was opened by the servant and Mr. Darcy appeared. Her pale face and disturbed manner made him stop and before he could speak she hastily exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr. Gardiner this moment on business that cannot be delayed. I have not an instant to lose.”
“Good God! What is the matter?” he cried. “I will not keep you a minute—but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner! You are not well enough. You cannot go yourself.”
Elizabeth hesitated, but her knees trembled so that she could not pursue them herself. Calling back the servant she ordered him, in such breathless words that she was difficult to understand, to fetch his master and mistress home immediately.
As he left the room she sat down, looking so miserably ill that it was impossible for Darcy to leave her. In a tone of gentle pity he said, “Let me call your maid. Is there nothing that would help you?—A glass of wine—shall I get you one?—You are very ill.”
“No, I thank you,” she replied, trying to calm herself, “There is nothing the matter with me. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which. I have just received from Longbourn.”
She burst into tears as she mentioned it and for a few minutes could not say another word. Darcy, in wretched suspense, could only say something about his concern and watch her in sympathetic silence. At last she spoke again, “I have just had a letter from Jane with such dreadful news. It cannot be hidden from anyone. My youngest sister has left all her friends—has eloped—has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr. Wickham. They have gone off together. You know him too well to doubt what will happen. She has no money, no influence, nothing that can tempt him to marry her—she is lost forever.”
