AI Classic Books

61691.

61692.

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61696.

"I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole      morning to answering it, as I foresee that a  little  writing will      not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself      surprised by your application; I did not expect it from  you .      Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know,      that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on  your       side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my      impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing      but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed      him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and      ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming      home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr.      Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all      over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked      as  yours  seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he      had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he      had seen and talked with them both--Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once.      From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after      ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for      them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to      himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as      to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or      confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken      pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to      lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to      speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step      forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on      by himself. If he  had another  motive, I am sure it would never      disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to      discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was      more than  we  had; and the consciousness of this was another      reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a      Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was      dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though      he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street,      and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs.      Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he      went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But      it was two or three days before he could get from her what he      wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery      and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be      found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in      London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they      would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our      kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in ----      Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia.      His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade      her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her      friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her,      offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia      absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none      of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of      leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or      other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her      feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a      marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he      easily learnt had never been  his  design. He confessed himself      obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour      which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill      consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to      resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation,      he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but      he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live      on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once.      Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have      been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been      benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question,      that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making      his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such      circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the      temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there      was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he      could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything      being settled between  them , Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make      your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch      Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not      be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father      was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did      not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly      consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him      till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name,      and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called      on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your      uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk      together. They met again on Sunday, and then  I  saw him too. It      was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express      was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I      fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character,      after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times;      but  this  is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not      do himself; though I am sure  and I do not speak it to be thanked,      therefore say nothing about it  your uncle would most readily have      settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which      was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it      deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead      of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up      with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely      against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning      gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that      would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where      it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or      Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done      for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I      believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another      thousand in addition to her own settled upon  her , and his      commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him      alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his      reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character      had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been      received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in       this ; though I doubt whether  his  reserve, or  anybody’s       reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this      fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that      your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit      for  another interest  in the affair. When all this was resolved      on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at      Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more      when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to      receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything.      It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I      hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to      us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house.  He  was      exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I      would not tell you how little I was satisfied with  her  behaviour      while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter      last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a      piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no      fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner,      representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all      the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it      was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes      quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane,      and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual      in his return, and, as Lydia imformed you, attended the wedding. He      dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on      Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear      Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying  what I was never bold      enough to say before  how much I like him? His behaviour to us has,      in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire.      His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but      a little more liveliness, and  that , if he marry  prudently , his      wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever      mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive      me, if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so      far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy till I      have been all round the park. A low phaeton with a nice little pair      of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more. The      children have been wanting me this half hour.

61697.

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61699.

The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced, of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her sister’s match--which she had feared to encourage, as an exertion of goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be just, from the pain of obligation--were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe the man whom he always most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it was a hope shortly checked by other considerations; and she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her, for a woman who had already refused him, as able to overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, she could perhaps believe, that remaining partiality for her might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, everything to him. Oh, how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him! For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him,--proud that in a cause of compassion and honour he had been able to get the better of himself. She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.

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