It was a fortnight since Mrs Bennet had been down stairs,but on this happy day she again took her seat at the head of her table,and in spirits oppressively high.No sentiment of shame gave a damp to her triumph.The marriage of a daughter,which had been the first object of her wishes since Jane was sixteen,was now on the point of accomplishment,and her thoughts and her words ran wholly on those attendants of elegant nuptials,fine muslins,new carriages,and servants.She was busily searching through the neighbourhood for a ‘proper situation’for her daughter,and,without knowing or considering what their income might be,rejected many as deficient in size and importance.
‘Haye Park might do,’said she,‘if the Gouldings would quit it,or the great house at Stoke,if the drawing room were larger;but Ashworth is too far off!I could not bear to have her ten miles from me;and as for Pulvis Lodge,the attics are dreadful.’
Her husband allowed her to talk on without interruption while the servants remained.But when they had withdrawn,he said to her,‘Mrs Bennet,before you take any or all of these houses for your son and daughter,let us come to a right understanding.Into one house in this neighbourhood they shall never have admittance.I will not encourage the impudence of either by receiving them at Longbourn.’
A long dispute followed this declaration,but Mr Bennet was firm;it soon led to another,and Mrs Bennet found,with amazement and horror,that her husband would not advance a guinea to buy clothes for his daughter.He protested that she should receive from him no mark of affection whatever on the occasion.Mrs Bennet could hardly comprehend it.That his anger could be carried to such a point of inconceivable resentment,as to refuse his daughter a privilege without which her marriage would scarcely seem valid,exceeded all that she could believe possible.She was more alive to the disgrace which the want of new clothes must reflect on her daughter's nuptials,than to any sense of shame at her eloping and living with Wickham a fortnight before they took place.
Elizabeth was now most heartily sorry that she had,from the distress of the moment,been led to make Mr Darcy acquainted with their fears for her sister;for since her marriage would so shortly give the proper termination to the elopement,they might hope to conceal its unfavourable beginning from all those who were not immediately on the spot.
She had no fear of its spreading farther through his means.There were few people on whose secrecy she would have more confidently depended;but at the same time,there was no one whose knowledge of a sister's frailty would have mortified her so much.Not,however,from any fear of disadvantage from it individually to herself;for at any rate,there seemed a gulf impassable between them.Had Lydia's marriage been concluded on the most honourable terms,it was not to be supposed that Mr Darcy would connect himself with a family where to every other objection would now be added an alliance and relationship of the nearest kind with the man whom he so justly scorned.
From such a connexion she could not wonder that he should shrink.The wish of procuring her regard,which she had assured herself of his feeling in Derbyshire,could not in rational expectation survive such a blow as this.She was humbled,she was grieved;she repented,though she hardly knew of what.She became jealous of his esteem,when she could no longer hope to be benefited by it.She wanted to hear of him,when there seemed the least chance of gaining intelligence.She was convinced that she could have been happy with him,when it was no longer likely they should meet.
What a triumph for him,as she often thought,could he know that the proposals which she had proudly spurned only four months ago,would now have been gladly and gratefully received!He was as generous,she doubted not,as the most generous of his sex.But while he was mortal,there must be a triumph.
She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who,in disposition and talents,would most suit her.His understanding and temper,though unlike her own,would have answered all her wishes.It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both;by her ease and liveliness,his mind might have been softened,his manners improved,and from his judgment,information,and knowledge of the world,she must have received benefit of greater importance.But no such happy marriage could now teach the admiring multitude what connubial felicity really was.An union of a different tendency,and precluding the possibility of the other,was soon to be formed in their family.
How Wickham and Lydia were to be supported in tolerable independence,she could not imagine.But how little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue,she could easily conjecture.
Mr Gardiner soon wrote again to his brother.To Mr Bennet's acknowledgments he briefly replied,with assurances of his eagerness to promote the welfare of any of his family;and concluded with entreaties that the subject might never be mentioned to him again.The principal purport of his letter was to inform them that Mr Wickham had resolved on quitting the militia.
‘It was greatly my wish that he should do so,’he added,as soon as his marriage was fixed on.And I think you will agree with me in considering a removal from that corps as highly advisable,both on his account and my niece's.It is Mr Wickham's intention to go into the Regulars;and,among his former friends,there are still some who are able and willing to assist him in the army.
He has the promise of an ensigncy in General-'s regiment,now quartered in the North.It is an advantage to have it so far from this part of the kingdom.
