Elizabeth made no answer; and without attempting to persuade her ladyship to
return into the house, walked quietly into it herself. She heard the carriage drive
away as she proceeded up stairs. Her mother impatiently met her at the door of the
dressing-room, to ask why Lady Catherine would not come in again and rest herself.
"She did not choose it," said her daughter, "she would go."
"She is a very fine-looking woman! and her calling here was prodigiously civil!
for she only came, I suppose, to tell us the Collinses were well. She is on her
road somewhere, I dare say, and so, passing through Meryton, thought she might as
well call on you. I suppose she had nothing particular to say to you, Lizzy?"
Elizabeth was forced to give into a little falsehood here; for to acknowledge
the substance of their conversation was impossible.
<CHAPTER XV (57)>
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 intreaty 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 teazing
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 fire place, 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 elder 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 become 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.