Chapter 17
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 be 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 hose 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 times. There was no help for it, however. Mr.
Wickham's happiness and her own were perforce delayed a little
longer, and Mr. Collins' proposal accepted with as good a grace as
she could. She was not better the 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 form 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.