Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr.
Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she
knew not how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr.
Bingley's regard; and yet, it was not in her nature to question the
veracity of a young man of such amiable appearance as Wickham. The
possibility of his having endured such unkindness, was enough to
interest all her tender feelings; and nothing remained therefore to be
done, but to think well of them both, to defend the conduct of each, and
throw into the account of accident or mistake whatever could not be
otherwise explained.
"They have both," said she, "been deceived, I
dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea.
Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is,
in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances
which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."
"Very
true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on behalf
of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the
business? Do clear _them_ too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of
somebody."
"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me
out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a
disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's
favourite in such a manner, one whom his father had promised to provide
for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any
value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate
friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no."
"I can much
more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on, than that Mr.
Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last
night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not
so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his
looks."
"It is difficult indeed--it is distressing. One does not know what to think."
"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think."
But
Jane could think with certainty on only one point--that Mr. Bingley, if
he _had_ been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair
became public.
The two young ladies were summoned from the
shrubbery, where this conversation passed, by the arrival of the very
persons of whom they had been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his sisters came
to give their personal invitation for the long-expected ball at
Netherfield, which was fixed for the following Tuesday. The two ladies
were delighted to see their dear friend again, called it an age since
they had met, and repeatedly asked what she had been doing with herself
since their separation. To the rest of the family they paid little
attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet as much as possible, saying not much to
Elizabeth, and nothing at all to the others. They were soon gone again,
rising from their seats with an activity which took their brother by
surprise, and hurrying off as if eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's
civilities.
The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely
agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet chose to consider
it as given in compliment to her eldest daughter, and was particularly
flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself, instead
of a ceremonious card. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the
society of her two friends, and the attentions of her brother; and
Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing a great deal with Mr.
Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation of everything in Mr. Darcy's look
and behavior. The happiness anticipated by Catherine and Lydia depended
less on any single event, or any particular person, for though they
each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance half the evening with Mr. Wickham,
he was by no means the only partner who could satisfy them, and a ball
was, at any rate, a ball. And even Mary could assure her family that she
had no disinclination for it.
"While I can have my mornings to
myself," said she, "it is enough--I think it is no sacrifice to join
occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I
profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and
amusement as desirable for everybody."
Elizabeth's spirits were so
high on this occasion, that though she did not often speak
unnecessarily to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he
intended to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he did, whether he
would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement; and she was
rather surprised to find that he entertained no scruple whatever on that
head, and was very far from dreading a rebuke either from the
Archbishop, or Lady Catherine de Bourgh, by venturing to dance.
"I
am by no means of the opinion, I assure you," said he, "that a ball of
this kind, given by a young man of character, to respectable people, can
have any evil tendency; and I am so far from objecting to dancing
myself, that I shall hope to be honoured with the hands of all my fair
cousins in the course of the evening; and I take this opportunity of
soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances especially, a
preference which I trust my cousin Jane will attribute to the right
cause, and not to any disrespect for her."
Elizabeth felt herself
completely taken in. She had fully proposed being engaged by Mr. Wickham
for those very dances; and to have Mr. Collins instead! her liveliness
had never been worse timed. There was no help for it, however. Mr.
Wickham's happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little longer,
and Mr. Collins's proposal accepted with as good a grace as she could.
She was not the better pleased with his gallantry from the idea it
suggested of something more. It now first struck her, that _she_ was
selected from among her sisters as worthy of being mistress of Hunsford
Parsonage, and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings, in the
absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction,
as she observed his increasing civilities toward herself, and heard his
frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity; and though
more astonished than gratified herself by this effect of her charms, it
was not long before her mother gave her to understand that the
probability of their marriage was extremely agreeable to _her_.
Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware
that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply. Mr. Collins
might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel
about him.
If there had not been a Netherfield ball to prepare for
and talk of, the younger Miss Bennets would have been in a very
pitiable state at this time, for from the day of the invitation, to the
day of the ball, there was such a succession of rain as prevented their
walking to Meryton once. No aunt, no officers, no news could be sought
after--the very shoe-roses for Netherfield were got by proxy. Even
Elizabeth might have found some trial of her patience in weather which
totally suspended the improvement of her acquaintance with Mr. Wickham;
and nothing less than a dance on Tuesday, could have made such a Friday,
Saturday, Sunday, and Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia. _