Elizabeth was at no loss to understand from whence this deference for her authority
proceeded; but it was not in her power to give any information of so satisfactory
a nature as the compliment deserved.
She had never heard of his having had any relations, except a father and mother,
both of whom had been dead many years. It was possible, however, that some of his
companions in the ----shire, might be able to give more information; and, though
she was not very sanguine in expecting it, the application was a something to look
Every day at Longbourn was now a day of anxiety; but the most anxious part of
each was when the post was expected.
The arrival of letters was the first grand object of every morning's impatience.
Through letters, whatever of good or bad was to be told would be communicated, and
every succeeding day was expected to bring some news of importance.
But before they heard again from Mr. Gardiner, a letter arrived for their father
from a different quarter -- from Mr. Collins; which, as Jane had received directions
to open all that came for him in his absence, she accordingly read; and Elizabeth,
who knew what curiosities his letters always were, looked over her, and read it
likewise. It was as follows: "MY DEAR SIR, I feel myself called upon by our relationship,
and my situation in life, to condole with you on the grievous affliction you are
now suffering under, of which we were yesterday informed by a letter from Hertfordshire.
Be assured, my dear Sir, that Mrs. Collins and myself sincerely sympathise with
you, and all your respectable family, in your present distress, which must be of
the bitterest kind, because proceeding from a cause which no time can remove. No
arguments shall be wanting on my part that can alleviate so severe a misfortune;
or that may comfort you, under a circumstance that must be of all others most afflicting
to a parent's mind. The death of your daughter would have been a blessing in comparison
of this. And it is the more to be lamented, because there is reason to suppose,
as my dear Charlotte informs me, that this licentiousness of behaviour in your daughter
has proceeded from a faulty degree of indulgence, though at the same time, for the
consolation of yourself and Mrs. Bennet, I am inclined to think that her own disposition
must be naturally bad, or she could not be guilty of such an enormity at so early
an age. Howsoever that may be, you are grievously to be pitied, in which opinion
I am not only joined by Mrs. Collins, but likewise by Lady Catherine and her daughter,
to whom I have related the affair. They agree with me in apprehending that this
false step in one daughter will be injurious to the fortunes of all the others;
for who, as Lady Catherine herself condescendingly says, will connect themselves
with such a family. And this consideration leads me moreover to reflect with augmented
satisfaction on a certain event of last November, for had it been otherwise, I must
have been involved in all your sorrow and disgrace. Let me advise you then, my dear
Sir, to console yourself as much as possible, to throw off your unworthy child from
your affection for ever, and leave her to reap the fruits of her own heinous offence.
I am, dear Sir, &c. &c."
Mr. Gardiner did not write again till he had received an answer from Colonel
Forster; and then he had nothing of a pleasant nature to send. It was not known
that Wickham had a single relation with whom he kept up any connection, and it was
certain that he had no near one living. His former acquaintance had been numerous;
but since he had been in the militia, it did not appear that he was on terms of
particular friendship with any of them. There was no one therefore who could be
pointed out as likely to give any news of him. And in the wretched state of his
own finances there was a very powerful motive for secrecy, in addition to his fear
of discovery by Lydia's relations, for it had just transpired that he had left gaming
debts behind him, to a very considerable amount. Colonel Forster believed that more
than a thousand pounds would be necessary to clear his expences at Brighton.
He owed a good deal in the town, but his debts of honour were still more formidable.
Mr. Gardiner did not attempt to conceal these particulars from the Longbourn family;
Jane heard them with horror. "A gamester!" she cried. "This is wholly unexpected.
I had not an idea of it."
Mr. Gardiner added, in his letter, that they might expect to see their father
at home on the following day, which was Saturday. Rendered spiritless by the ill-success
of all their endeavours, he had yielded to his brother-in-law's intreaty that he
would return to his family, and leave it to him to do whatever occasion might suggest
to be advisable for continuing their pursuit. When Mrs. Bennet was told of this,
she did not express so much satisfaction as her children expected, considering what
her anxiety for his life had been before.
"What, is he coming home, and without poor Lydia!" she cried.
"Sure he will not leave London before he has found them. Who is to fight Wickham,
and make him marry her, if he comes away?"
As Mrs. Gardiner began to wish to be at home, it was settled that she and her
children should go to London at the same time that Mr. Bennet came from it. The
coach, therefore, took them the first stage of their journey, and brought its master
back to Longbourn.
Mrs. Gardiner went away in all the perplexity about Elizabeth and her Derbyshire
friend that had attended her from that part of the world. His name had never been
voluntarily mentioned before them by her niece; and the kind of half-expectation
which Mrs. Gardiner had formed, of their being followed by a letter from him, had
ended in nothing. Elizabeth had received none since her return, that could come
The present unhappy state of the family, rendered any other excuse for the lowness
of her spirits unnecessary; nothing, therefore, could be fairly conjectured from
that, though Elizabeth, who was by this time tolerably well acquainted with her
own feelings, was perfectly aware that, had she known nothing of Darcy, she could
have borne the dread of Lydia's infamy somewhat better. It would have spared her,
she thought, one sleepless night out of two.
When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual philosophic composure.
He said as little as he had ever been in the habit of saying; made no mention of
the business that had taken him away, and it was some time before his daughters
had courage to speak of it.
It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that Elizabeth ventured
to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly expressing her sorrow for what
he must have endured, he replied, "Say nothing of that. Who would suffer but myself?
It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it."
"You must not be too severe upon yourself," replied Elizabeth.
"You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to fall
into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I
am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough."
"Do you suppose them to be in London?"
"Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?"
"And Lydia used to want to go to London," added Kitty.
"She is happy, then," said her father, drily; "and her residence there will probably
be of some duration."
Then, after a short silence, he continued, "Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for
being justified in your advice to me last May, which, considering the event, shews
some greatness of mind."
They were interrupted by Miss Bennet, who came to fetch her mother's tea.
"This is a parade," cried he, "which does one good; it gives such an elegance
to misfortune! Another day I will do the same; I will sit in my library, in my night
cap and powdering gown, and give as much trouble as I can, -- or, perhaps, I may
defer it till Kitty runs away."
"I am not going to run away, Papa," said Kitty, fretfully; "if I should ever
go to Brighton, I would behave better than Lydia."
"You go to Brighton! -- I would not trust you so near it as East-Bourne, for
fifty pounds! No, Kitty, I have at last learnt to be cautious, and you will feel
the effects of it.
No officer is ever to enter my house again, nor even to pass through the village.
Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters.
And you are never to stir out of doors till you can prove that you have spent ten
minutes of every day in a rational manner."
Kitty, who took all these threats in a serious light, began to cry.
"Well, well," said he, "do not make yourself unhappy. If you are a good girl
for the next ten years, I will take you to a review at the end of them."
<CHAPTER VII (49)>
TWO days after Mr. Bennet's return, as Jane and Elizabeth were walking together
in the shrubbery behind the house, they saw the housekeeper coming towards them,
and concluding that she came to call them to their mother, went forward to meet
her; but, instead of the expected summons, when they approached her she said to
Miss Bennet, "I beg your pardon, madam, for interrupting you, but I was in hopes
you might have got some good news from town, so I took the liberty of coming to