Chapter 15
The discomposure of spirits which this
extraordinary visit threw Elizabeth into could not be easily
overcome; nor could she for many hours learn to think of it less
than incessantly. Lady Catherine, it appeared, had actually taken
the trouble of this journey from Rosings for the sole purpose of
breaking off her supposed engagement with Mr. Darcy. It was a
rational scheme to be sure! but from what the report of their
engagement could originate, Elizabeth was at a loss to imagine;
till she recollected that his being the intimate friend of
Bingley, and her being the sister of Jane, was enough, at a
time when the expectation of one wedding made every body eager for
another, to supply the idea. She had not herself forgotten to feel
that the marriage of her sister must bring them more frequently
together. And her neighbours at Lucas Lodge, therefore, (for
through their communication with the Collinses, the report, she
concluded, had reached Lady Catherine,) had only set that
down as almost certain and immediate which she had looked
forward to as possible at some future time.
In revolving Lady Catherine’s expressions, however,
she could not help feeling some uneasiness as to the possible
consequence of her persisting in this interference. From what she
had said of her resolution to prevent their marriage, it occurred
to Elizabeth that she must meditate an application to her nephew;
and how he might take a similar representation of the evils
attached to a connection with her she dared not pronounce. She knew
not the exact degree of his affection for his aunt, or his
dependence on her judgment, but it was natural to suppose that he
thought much higher of her Ladyship than she could do; and
it was certain, that in enumerating the miseries of a marriage with
one, whose immediate connections were so unequal to his own,
his aunt would address him on his weakest side. With his notions of
dignity, he would probably feel that the arguments, which to
Elizabeth had appeared weak and ridiculous, contained much good
sense and solid reasoning.
If he had been wavering before, as to what he
should do, which had often seemed likely, the advice and entreaty
of so near a relation might settle every doubt, and determine him
at once to be as happy as dignity unblemished could make him. In
that case he would return no more. Lady Catherine might see him in
her way through town; and his engagement to Bingley of coming again
to Netherfield must give way.
“If, therefore, an excuse for not keeping his
promise should come to his friend within a few days,” she added, “I
shall know how to understand it. I shall then give over every
expectation, every wish of his constancy. If he is satisfied with
only regretting me, when he might have obtained my affections and
hand, I shall soon cease to regret him at all.”
The surprise of the rest of the family, on hearing
who their visitor had been, was very great: but they obligingly
satisfied it with the same kind of supposition which had appeased
Mrs. Bennet’s curiosity; and Elizabeth was spared from much teasing
on the subject.
The next morning, as she was going down stairs, she
was met by her father, who came out of his library with a letter in
his hand.
“Lizzy,” said he, “I was going to look for you:
come into my room.”
She followed him thither; and her curiosity to know
what he had to tell her was heightened by the supposition of its
being in some manner connected with the letter he held. It suddenly
struck her that it might be from Lady Catherine; and she
anticipated with dismay all the consequent explanations.
She followed her father to the fireplace, and they
both sat down. He then said,—
“I have received a letter this morning that has
astonished me exceedingly. As it principally concerns yourself, you
ought to know its contents. I did not know before that I had
two daughters on the brink of matrimony. Let me congratulate
you on a very important conquest.”
The colour now rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks in
the instantaneous conviction of its being a letter from the nephew,
instead of the aunt; and she was undetermined whether most to be
pleased that he explained himself at all, or offended that his
letter was not rather addressed to herself, when her father
continued,—
“You look conscious. Young ladies have great
penetration in such matters as these; but I think I may defy even
your sagacity to discover the name of your admirer. This
letter is from Mr. Collins.”
“From Mr. Collins! and what can he have to
say?”
“Something very much to the purpose, of course. He
begins with congratulations on the approaching nuptials of my
eldest daughter, of which, it seems, he has been told by some of
the good-natured, gossiping Lucases. I shall not sport with your
impatience by reading what he says on that point. What relates to
yourself is as follows:—
‘Having thus offered you the sincere
congratulations of Mrs. Collins and myself on this happy event, let
me now add a short hint on the subject of another, of which we have
been advertised by the same authority. Your daughter Elizabeth, it
is presumed, will not long bear the name of Bennet, after her
eldest sister has resigned it; and the chosen partner of her fate
may be reasonably looked up to as one of the most illustrious
personages in this land.’
“Can you possibly guess, Lizzy, who is meant by
this?
‘This young gentleman is blessed, in a peculiar
way, with every thing the heart of mortal can most desire,—splendid
property, noble kindred, and extensive patronage. Yet, in spite of
all these temptations, let me warn my cousin Elizabeth, and
yourself, of what evils you may incur by a precipitate closure with
this gentleman’s proposals, which, of course, you will be inclined
to take immediate advantage of.’
“Have you any idea, Lizzy, who this gentleman is?
But now it comes out.
“ ‘My motive for cautioning you is as follows:—We
have reason to imagine that his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh,
does not look on the match with a friendly eye.’
“Mr. Darcy, you see, is the man! Now, Lizzy,
I think I have surprised you. Could he, or the Lucases, have
pitched on any man, within the circle of our acquaintance, whose
name would have given the lie more effectually to what they
related? Mr. Darcy, who never looks at any woman but to see a
blemish, and who probably never looked at you in his life!
It is admirable!”
Elizabeth tried to join in her father’s pleasantry,
but could only force one most reluctant smile. Never had his wit
been directed in a manner so little agreeable to her.
“Are you not diverted?”
“Oh yes. Pray read on.”
“ ‘After mentioning the likelihood of this marriage
to her Ladyship last night, she immediately, with her usual
condescension, expressed what she felt on the occasion; when it
became apparent, that on the score of some family objections on the
part of my cousin she would never give her consent to what she
termed so disgraceful a match. I thought it my duty to give the
speediest intelligence of this to my cousin, that she and her noble
admirer may be aware of what they are about, and not run hastily
into a marriage which has not been properly sanctioned.’ Mr.
Collins, moreover, adds, ‘I am truly rejoiced that my cousin
Lydia’s sad business has been so well hushed up, and am only
concerned that their living together before the marriage took place
should be so generally known. I must not, however, neglect the
duties of my station, or refrain from declaring my amazement, at
hearing that you received the young couple into your house as soon
as they were married. It was an encouragement of vice; and had I
been the rector of Longbourn, I should very strenuously have
opposed it. You ought certainly to forgive them as a Christian, but
never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be
mentioned in your hearing.’ That is his notion of Christian
forgiveness! The rest of his letter is only about his dear
Charlotte’s situation, and his expectation of a young olive-branch.
But, Lizzy, you look as if you did not enjoy it. You are not going
to be missish, I hope, and pretend to be affronted at an
idle report. For what do we live, but to make sport for our
neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?”
“Oh,” cried Elizabeth, “I am excessively diverted.
But it is so strange!”
“Yes, that is what makes it amusing. Had
they fixed on any other man it would have been nothing; but
his perfect indifference and your pointed dislike
make it so delightfully absurd! Much as I abominate writing, I
would not give up Mr. Collins’s correspondence for any
consideration. Nay, when I read a letter of his, I cannot help
giving him the preference even over Wickham, much as I value the
impudence and hypocrisy of my son-in-law. And pray, Lizzy, what
said Lady Catherine about this report? Did she call to refuse her
consent?”
To this question his daughter replied only with a
laugh; and as it had been asked without the least suspicion, she
was not distressed by his repeating it. Elizabeth had never been
more at a loss to make her feelings appear what they were not. It
was necessary to laugh when she would rather have cried. Her father
had most cruelly mortified her by what he said of Mr. Darcy’s
indifference; and she could do nothing but wonder at such a want of
penetration, or fear that, perhaps, instead of his seeing too
little, she might have fancied too much.