Chapter-13
The first week of their return had soon gone. The second began. It was the last week of the regiment’s stay in Meryton before they left for camp in Brighton. All the young ladies in the neighborhood were in misery. The elder Miss Bennets were the only ones still able to eat, drink, sleep and follow their usual employments. Very frequently they were reproached for this lack of feeling by Kitty and Lydia, whose own misery was extreme.
“Good heavens! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” they often exclaimed in their sorrow, “How can you smile so, Elizabeth?”
Their affectionate mother shared all their sorrow. She remembered what she had gone through on a similar occasion twenty-five years ago. “I am sure,” she said, “I cried for two days when Colonel Miller’s regiment went away. I thought my heart would have broken.”
“I am sure I shall break mine,” said Lydia.
On the last day before Lydia and the regiment left for Brighton, Elizabeth saw Wickham again. Elizabeth had no wish to leave him in a good humour. So when he asked her about her visit to Hunsford she mentioned that Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy had both been at Rosings and asked him if he knew the former.
He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed. But with a returning smile replied that he had formerly seen him often. He asked how she had liked him. She answered that she liked him very much indeed.
“His manners are very different from his cousin’s.”
“Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves when one knows him better.”
“Indeed!” cried Wickham, with a look of alarm. But he added in a gayer tone, “Does his politeness improve? Has he condescended to speak with more courtesy? For I dare not hope,” he continued in a more serious voice, “that he is improved in character.”
“Oh, no,” said Elizabeth, “In character, I believe, he is very much what he always was.”
Wickham looked as if he did not know whether to rejoice over her words or distrust them. Something in her face made him listen anxiously while she added, “When I said he improves when one knows him better, I did not mean that his mind or his manners were actually improving. I meant that his character is easier to understand when one knows him better.”
Wickham’s alarm was now apparent. For a few minutes he was silent. Then he turned to her again and said in the gentlest of voices, “You know my feelings towards Mr. Darcy so well that you will understand how I rejoice when he is wise enough to pretend to act well. I am afraid that these careful manners are only put on when he is visiting his aunt. He has always been a little afraid of her; no doubt because of the marriage which he plans with Miss de Bourgh.”
Elizabeth could not hide a smile at this, but she answered with a nod. The rest of the evening was passed with apparent cheerfulness. They parted at last politely, and hoped never to meet again.
Elizabeth’s tour to the north was quickly approaching. According to the present plan, they were to go no further than Derbyshire. In that county, there was enough to be seen to keep them busy for three weeks. It had a particularly strong attraction to Mrs. Gardiner. She had passed some years in the town of Lambton, which she longed to see again as much as all the more famous beauties of the county.
Elizabeth was extremely disappointed. She had set her heart on seeing the lakes. But she had to be satisfied—and certainly it was her nature to be happy. Soon all seemed right again.
There were many ideas connected with Derbyshire. It was impossible for her to see the world without thinking of Pemberley and its owner. “But surely,” she thought, “I may enter his county in safety and steal a few souvenirs without him seeing me.”
Four weeks passed away and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner with their four children at last appeared at Longbourn. The children were to be left in the care of their cousin Jane, whose steady sense and sweetness of temper exactly suited her to teaching them, playing with them and loving them.
The Gardiners stayed only one night at Longbourn and set off the next morning with Elizabeth. One enjoyment was certain—that of suitable companions. They all had health and good temper to bear inconveniences, cheerfulness to increase every pleasure and affection, and intelligence to entertain themselves.
Mrs. Gardiner’s former home, where she still had friends, was the centre of attraction. They followed the road towards the little town of Lambton, and Elizabeth learnt from her aunt that within five miles of Lambton, was the estate of Pemberley. It was not more than a mile or two off their road. Talking about it the day before, Mrs. Gardiner said she wished to see the place again. Mr. Gardiner was willing and Elizabeth was asked for her approval.
“My love, should you not like to see a place of which you have heard so much?” asked her aunt, “Wickham spent all his youth there, you know.”
Elizabeth was distressed. She felt that she had no business at Pemberley. The possibility of meeting Mr. Darcy while looking at the house instantly occurred to her. It would be dreadful! She blushed at the very idea. At last, though her aunt praised the beauty of the house and its grounds, she decided to go only if she found that the family were absent from Pemberley.
Accordingly, when she went to bed that night she asked one of the servants whether the family who owned Pemberley were there for the summer. There was a most welcome negative answer to the question.
Now that she had no cause for alarm she felt a good deal of curiosity about the house itself. When the subject was raised next morning she answered, with a proper air of indifference, that she would not dislike the plan.
To Pemberley, therefore, they were to go.
Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first sight of Pemberley Woods with some anxiety. When at last they turned in at the gate her spirits were in a high flutter.
The park was very large and contained great variety of scenes. They drove for some time through a beautiful wood. Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot. They gradually ascended for half a mile and then found themselves at the top of a hill, where the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, on the opposite side of the valley. It was a large, handsome, stone house, with high woody hills behind it and a stream flowing in front of it. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place with more natural beauty. They were all of them warm in their admiration. At that moment, she felt that to be the mistress of Pemberley might be something of which to be proud.
