Elizabeth had settled it that Mr.
Darcy would bring his sister to visit her the very
day after her reaching Pemberley; and was consequently
resolved not to be out of sight of the inn the whole
of that morning. But her conclusion was false;
for on the very morning after their arrival at Lambton,
these visitors came. They had been walking about
the place with some of their new friends, and were
just returning to the inn to dress themselves for
dining with the same family, when the sound of a carriage
drew them to a window, and they saw a gentleman and
a lady in a curricle driving up the street.
Elizabeth immediately recognizing the livery, guessed
what it meant, and imparted no small degree of her
surprise to her relations by acquainting them with
the honour which she expected. Her uncle and
aunt were all amazement; and the embarrassment of
her manner as she spoke, joined to the circumstance
itself, and many of the circumstances of the preceding
day, opened to them a new idea on the business.
Nothing had ever suggested it before, but they felt
that there was no other way of accounting for such
attentions from such a quarter than by supposing a
partiality for their niece. While these newly-born
notions were passing in their heads, the perturbation
of Elizabeth’s feelings was at every moment
increasing. She was quite amazed at her own discomposure;
but amongst other causes of disquiet, she dreaded
lest the partiality of the brother should have said
too much in her favour; and, more than commonly anxious
to please, she naturally suspected that every power
of pleasing would fail her.
She retreated from the window, fearful
of being seen; and as she walked up and down the room,
endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of
inquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made everything
worse.
Miss Darcy and her brother appeared,
and this formidable introduction took place.
With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new
acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself.
Since her being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss
Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of
a very few minutes convinced her that she was only
exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain
even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.
Miss Darcy was tall, and on a larger
scale than Elizabeth; and, though little more than
sixteen, her figure was formed, and her appearance
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 unassuming
and gentle. Elizabeth, who had expected to find
in her as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever
Mr. Darcy had been, was much relieved by discerning
such different feelings.
They had not long been together before
Mr. Darcy told her that Bingley was also coming to
wait on her; and she had barely time to express her
satisfaction, and prepare for such a visitor, when
Bingley’s quick step was heard on the stairs,
and in a moment he entered the room. All Elizabeth’s
anger against him had been long done away; but had
she still felt any, it could hardly have stood its
ground against the unaffected cordiality with which
he expressed himself on seeing her again. He
inquired in a friendly, though general way, after
her family, and looked and spoke with the same good-humoured
ease that he had ever done.
To Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he was scarcely
a less interesting personage than to herself.
They had long wished to see him. The whole party
before them, indeed, excited a lively attention.
The suspicions which had just arisen of Mr. Darcy and
their niece directed their observation towards each
with an earnest though guarded inquiry; and they soon
drew from those inquiries the full conviction that
one of them at least knew what it was to love.
Of the lady’s sensations they remained a little
in doubt; but that the gentleman was overflowing with
admiration was evident enough.
Elizabeth, on her side, had much to
do. She wanted to ascertain the feelings of
each of her visitors; she wanted to compose her own,
and to make herself agreeable to all; and in the latter
object, where she feared most to fail, she was most
sure of success, for those to whom she endeavoured
to give pleasure were prepossessed in her favour.
Bingley was ready, Georgiana was eager, and Darcy
determined, to be pleased.
In seeing Bingley, her thoughts naturally
flew to her sister; and, oh! how ardently did she
long to know whether any of his were directed in a
like manner. Sometimes she could fancy that he
talked less than on former occasions, and once or twice
pleased herself with the notion that, as he looked
at her, he was trying to trace a resemblance.
But, though this might be imaginary, she could not
be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who
had been set up as a rival to Jane. No look appeared
on either side that spoke particular regard.
Nothing occurred between them that could justify
the hopes of his sister. On this point she was
soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances
occurred ere they parted, which, in her anxious interpretation,
denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness,
and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention
of her, had he dared. He observed to her, at
a moment when the others were talking together, and
in a tone which had something of real regret, that
it “was a very long time since he had had the
pleasure of seeing her;” and, before she could
reply, he added, “It is above eight months.
We have not met since the 26th of November, when
we were all dancing together at Netherfield.”
Elizabeth was pleased to find his
memory so exact; and he afterwards took occasion to
ask her, when unattended to by any of the rest, whether
all her sisters were at Longbourn. There
was not much in the question, nor in the preceding
remark; but there was a look and a manner which gave
them meaning.
It was not often that she could turn
her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but, whenever she did
catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general
complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an
accent so removed from hauteur or disdain of
his companions, as convinced her that the improvement
of manners which she had yesterday witnessed however
temporary its existence might prove, had at least
outlived one day. When she saw him thus seeking
the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of
people with whom any intercourse a few months ago
would have been a disgrace—when she saw
him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very
relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected
their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the
difference, the change was so great, and struck so
forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain
her astonishment from being visible. Never,
even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield,
or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen
him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence
or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could
result from the success of his endeavours, and when
even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions
were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure
of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings.
Their visitors stayed with them above
half-an-hour; and when they arose to depart, Mr. Darcy
called on his sister to join him in expressing their
wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, and Miss Bennet,
to dinner at Pemberley, before they left the country.
Miss Darcy, though with a diffidence which marked
her little in the habit of giving invitations, readily
obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece, desirous
of knowing how she, whom the invitation most
concerned, felt disposed as to its acceptance, but
Elizabeth had turned away her head. Presuming
however, that this studied avoidance spoke rather a
momentary embarrassment than any dislike of the proposal,
and seeing in her husband, who was fond of society,
a perfect willingness to accept it, she ventured to
engage for her attendance, and the day after the next
was fixed on.
Bingley expressed great pleasure in
the certainty of seeing Elizabeth again, having still
a great deal to say to her, and many inquiries to
make after all their Hertfordshire friends. Elizabeth,
construing all this into a wish of hearing her speak
of her sister, was pleased, and on this account, as
well as some others, found herself, when their visitors
left them, capable of considering the last half-hour
with some satisfaction, though while it was passing,
the enjoyment of it had been little. Eager to
be alone, and fearful of inquiries or hints from her
uncle and aunt, she stayed with them only long enough
to hear their favourable opinion of Bingley, and then
hurried away to dress.
But she had no reason to fear Mr.
and Mrs. Gardiner’s curiosity; it was not their
wish to force her communication. It was evident
that she was much better acquainted with Mr. Darcy
than they had before any idea of; it was evident that
he was very much in love with her. They saw
much to interest, but nothing to justify inquiry.
Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of
anxiety to think well; and, as far as their acquaintance
reached, there was no fault to find. They could
not be untouched by his politeness; and had they drawn
his character from their own feelings and his servant’s
report, without any reference to any other account,
the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known
would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy.
There was now an interest, however, in believing the
housekeeper; and they soon became sensible that the
authority of a servant who had known him since he was
four years old, and whose own manners indicated respectability,
was not to be hastily rejected. Neither had
anything occurred in the intelligence of their Lambton
friends that could materially lessen its weight.
They had nothing to accuse him of but pride; pride
he probably had, and if not, it would certainly be
imputed by the inhabitants of a small market-town
where the family did not visit. It was acknowledged,
however, that he was a liberal man, and did much good
among the poor.
With respect to Wickham, the travellers
soon found that he was not held there in much estimation;
for though the chief of his concerns with the son
of his patron were imperfectly understood, it was
yet a well-known fact that, on his quitting Derbyshire,
he had left many debts behind him, which Mr. Darcy
afterwards discharged.
As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were
at Pemberley this evening more than the last; and
the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was
not long enough to determine her feelings towards
one in that mansion; and she lay awake two whole
hours endeavouring to make them out. She certainly
did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long
ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever
feeling a dislike against him, that could be so called.
The respect created by the conviction of his valuable
qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had
for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feeling;
and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier
nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and
bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light,
which yesterday had produced. But above all,
above respect and esteem, there was a motive within
her of goodwill which could not be overlooked.
It was gratitude; gratitude, not merely for having
once loved her, but for loving her still well enough
to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner
in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying
her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded,
would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on
this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the
acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of
regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their
two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the
good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her
known to his sister. Such a change in a man
of so much pride exciting not only astonishment but
gratitude—for to love, ardent love, it must
be attributed; and as such its impression on her was
of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing,
though it could not be exactly defined. She respected,
she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a
real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to
know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon
herself, and how far it would be for the happiness
of both that she should employ the power, which her
fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on
her the renewal of his addresses.
It had been settled in the evening
between the aunt and the niece, that such a striking
civility as Miss Darcy’s in coming to see them
on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she
had reached it only to a late breakfast, ought to be
imitated, though it could not be equalled, by some
exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently,
that it would be highly expedient to wait on her at
Pemberley the following morning. They were, therefore,
to go. Elizabeth was pleased; though when she
asked herself the reason, she had very little to say
in reply.
Mr. Gardiner left them soon after
breakfast. The fishing scheme had been renewed
the day before, and a positive engagement made of
his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before
noon.