The ride duly took place on the following morning, and the circumstances
caused Elizabeth much secret pleasure. Her husband hesitated to attach
any importance to the friendship thus inaugurated, and did not care to
consider the possibilities arising out of it, for the engagement between
his sister and his cousin had been a scheme very near his heart, and
when it failed he was so much disappointed that he could not give up the
idea of Fitzwilliam's being disappointed too. It was difficult for him
to imagine that a man who had lost Georgiana could console himself with
another woman, however talented and charming. It therefore followed that
Elizabeth was compelled to keep her satisfaction to herself, and being
very anxious that nothing should be said to dispel it, she refrained
from giving any account of her cousin when the carriages assembled
before her aunt's door at eleven o'clock. With a warning glance at her
husband, she replied to Lady Catherine's peremptory inquiries that
Robert had an engagement that morning, but he would join them at dinner,
coming over on horseback.
"An engagement!" repeated Lady Catherine haughtily. "I was not aware
that any engagement could have a prior claim, when my party has been
made up for some days. It is very annoying. The result is that you have
an empty seat in your carriage; if we had known, Captain Tilney's gig
would not have been wanted."
"Perhaps Captain Tilney would not mind giving poor little me a seat in
his gig," suggested Miss Steele, who, since she saw that the honour of
sharing a back seat with Colonel Fitzwilliam was denied her, had been
revolving the next most advantageous plan in her mind. Captain Tilney,
who was already in his gig, hoping that his destined companion had not
yet appeared, looked round for a way of escape: but from Lady
Catherine's generalship there was none, and she said, after a moment's
consideration: "Very well, I suppose that must do. I had intended--but
when people are so extremely ungrateful--I sent a note round last night
to Mrs. Grant and Miss Crawford, Elizabeth, asking them to join us. They
actually declined. It is not often that I go out of my way to take
notice of strangers--"
"My dear aunt," interrupted Darcy, "had we not better start? We are
collecting a crowd in the street. Miss Steele, may I help you into the
gig? I suppose your sister and her husband will go with my aunt and Miss
de Bourgh. Take care of the wheel. Tilney, your horse looks as if he
were going to leave us all behind. Now, Mrs. Ferrars. It is a good thing
we have a spare seat, you know, madam. Mr. Morland can take care of the
baskets and the wraps. If you like, we can make different arrangement in
coming home."
The carriages drove off, and Elizabeth, in the highest spirits,
congratulated her husband on his disposal of the Steele faction. The
party, however, was not destined to be so successfully divided for the
whole day, and while they were all strolling about at Clifton, in the
hour preceding diner, Elizabeth was taken possession of by her aunt, to
listen to some severe strictures upon her management of the family
affairs.
"I blame you exceedingly, Elizabeth, for not using your influence with
Fitzwilliam. He ought to go about with the rest of us in an ordinary
way, not wander off by himself, heaven knows where. _That_ is not the
way to teach him to forget that affair, which so unfortunately
miscarried under your guidance."
"But, Aunt, we cannot control his movements as if he were a child. He
naturally goes where he likes and makes his own friends."
"His own friends, yes, indeed! Desirable friends they must be, to cause
him to break an engagement with his nearest relations. I think it is
quite time that he were taken in hand by someone who cares as much for
his welfare as I do. Even at his age a man cannot be trusted to know
what is best for himself. I always thought no good would come of it when
you and Darcy took so much pains to throw him and Georgiana together.
Your own family's matrimonial affairs have always been conducted in such
extraordinary lines--"
"We will leave my family out of the discussion, please, Aunt Catherine.
I do assure you that the breaking of Georgiana's engagement was for the
best in every way."
"Of course, I know you feel bound to defend your handiwork, and I am
only too glad to think that my dear nephew has not suffered more than he
has from the effects. Perhaps next time you will agree that he should be
guided by the advice of those older and wiser than himself."
"Certainly, Aunt Catherine," returned Elizabeth, who only endured these
remarks by making allowance for her aunt's disappointment. "Or perhaps
it might be better to let him choose a wife, if he wants one, entirely
by himself."
"I should prefer that he should choose one of whom I could approve, and
that I could be sure, next time an engagement is made, that it is not
likely to be broken," returned Lady Catherine. "When I was a young girl
a betrothal was regarded as a very serious thing, one not lightly to be
cast aside because of a fancied change of feeling."
Elizabeth had begun to wonder how much longer she could bear this
conversation, when the opportune arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam caused
his aunt's attention to be concentrated upon him to the exclusion of
everyone else; and Elizabeth was pleased to observe his contented air
and cheerful manner while he laughingly parried his aunt's
cross-examination, and even submitted to the advances of Miss Steele,
who, delighted to find him more approachable than usual, continued to
address all her remarks to him while they visited the Pump Room and
strolled down towards the river. Elizabeth found herself obliged to pair
off with Mrs. Ferrars, but Lucy, who possessed a considerably larger
share of adroitness than her sister, perceived at once that different
methods were necessary to recommend herself to Mrs. Darcy than to Lady
Catherine, and had for some days been endeavouring to show herself equal
to the standard of elegance required by a young lady. On this occasion
she began by expressing warm enjoyment of the concert a few nights
before.
"Yes," said Elizabeth, "it was a good concert, very much above the
average of those things, I thought."
"Oh, it was charming! I do not know when I have been more delighted!
That exquisite Italian song! The air of it runs in my memory still."
"You must have a good memory, for those florid operatic songs are the
most difficult things to remember."
"Ah, dear Mrs. Darcy, I fear you undervalue your powers. We all know
what an accomplished musician and critic you are." Elizabeth disclaimed;
but Mrs. Ferrars continued perseveringly: "You prefer instrumental
music, perhaps? It is no doubt a sign of a more cultivated taste."
Elizabeth was somewhat amused. "I do prefer instrumental music, but only
because it is the kind I understand best."
"Then of course you appreciated the playing of that young lady, Miss
Crawford. I suppose it was very wonderful. Lady Catherine was much
struck by it."
"I do not know that it was wonderful, but Miss Crawford has a great
gift, and plays with all the feeling and charm one would expect of her."
"You know her well, do you not?" asked Lucy.
"Not very well, but I do hope to know her better."
Lucy meditated upon this: it was not very agreeable news to her; if Mrs.
Darcy saw much of Miss Crawford, it would mean that Colonel Fitzwilliam
would see a good deal of her, too. Lucy felt that after poor Anne's many
failures, success did not look more probable here; and the result of her
reflections was the question: "Is Miss Crawford as rich as they say?"
"I do not know what Miss Crawford's fortune is," replied Elizabeth in
cold surprise. "She and her sister appear comfortably off."
"Oh, I only meant--" began Lucy, confused. "She is said to be such a
great heiress, that I often wonder why she has never married." Then, as
her companion did not speak, she added: "They say that perhaps she will
be the next Lady Elliot, and that would be most suitable, would it not?
_his_ title and _her_ fortune."
"I should not think such a match was very probable, but I scarcely know
Sir Walter Elliot," replied Elizabeth.
Lucy could not help pursuing the subject. "Do you think Miss Crawford
very pretty?" she inquired.
"She is very graceful and sweet looking; and her face has a great deal
of animation, which is always so attractive," answered Elizabeth.
"Her complexion has rather lost its bloom, though, and she is so
unbecomingly thin," Lucy ventured to say.
"I have not remarked it," returned Elizabeth, vexed with herself for
having drifted into anything like an intimate conversation with Mrs.
Ferrars. "Shall we join Lady Catherine? She is evidently wanting to
collect the party. It must be nearly time to start for home."
Lucy saw that she had made a mistake, and covered it as well as she
could by saying: "Oh, but I think Miss Crawford charming, I assure you,
and so talented. I wish we could have heard the harp when we were
calling on you yesterday morning."
"You will have another opportunity of doing so at my aunt's reception
next week," said her companion.
Mrs. Darcy had been quite conscious of the undercurrent in Mrs.
Ferrars's mind during this conversation, for she had perceived the
aspirations of Miss Steele, supported as she was by her sister, towards
Colonel Fitzwilliam; and Elizabeth felt the extreme importance of
preventing any hint from being dropped which might open her cousin's
eyes to the situation, or even to the fact that anyone thought there was
a situation. A word of raillery from Miss Steele, or of archness from
Mrs. Ferrars, would be enough to drive him from Bath in disgust; he
would resent nothing more deeply than the imputation of his paying court
to an heiress, and persons of the Steele kind, Elizabeth knew, would be
able to make remarks of a character most difficult for him to bear. The
friendship between himself and Miss Crawford was at that time in the
stage when a very small incident might affect it one way or the other;
and Elizabeth felt miserably uncomfortable until she found herself
safely at home again, and their little party of three collected round
the fireside in their lodgings, Mr. Morland having been dropped at his
rooms.
"Well, Robert, I did not have the chance to ask you," she began, trying
to speak unconcernedly; "did you enjoy your ride this morning, and where
did you go?"
"I enjoyed it very much, thank you," replied the Colonel, "though we did
not go far, only about three miles on the Wells road."
"That was a pity," said Darcy; "you ought to have had a good gallop on
the downs."
"I wished to do so," said the Colonel, "but I fancied Miss Crawford was
a little disinclined for it. She seemed so much afraid I should be late
in arriving at Clifton and always talking of turning back."
"You must go farther another time," said Elizabeth.
"Yes, I hope so indeed," responded her cousin; "it is perfect weather
for riding, and Miss Crawford is a horsewoman such as one seldom sees."
"Talking of horses, either Tilney is not much of a driver, or else he
took pleasure in frightening that Miss Steele to-day," remarked Darcy.
"You did not see, did you, Robert? No, it was on the way up there. He
let his horse gallop down the long hill--I thought the gig would have
been upset--and the silly girl actually caught hold of one rein."
"I thought Miss Steele seemed very unwilling to drive back with him,"
said Fitzwilliam with a smile. "By the way, have you noticed what a
wonderful girl she is for asking questions? She almost equals my aunt."
Elizabeth felt her fears returning, and inquired: "Did she manage to
find questions to ask _you_, Robert?"
"I should think she did. She was trying to extract from me why I had not
arrived earlier and what I had been doing. I had to admit that I had
been riding, and in some way of her own she dragged Miss Crawford's name
in too. I simply pretended not to hear, and began talking vigorously
about something else. How in the world it can matter to her whether I
was riding with Miss Crawford, or Miss Anybody, I fail to understand."
"She is an inquisitive little minx, and I cannot bear her," Elizabeth
exclaimed emphatically. "Fitzwilliam, do let us go home. I don't like
Bath this year, or the people in it. We can ask the nice ones, like Miss
Crawford and Mr. Morland, to stay with us at Pemberley."
"I am quite willing to return, my dear," replied Darcy; "but it would
not do to leave before my aunt's reception, or to admit ourselves driven
away by a Miss Steele."
"Of course we will stay over the sixteenth, but we will go after that;
it only means a week or two less than our ordinary visit. The
Wentworths are leaving, and Eleanor Portinscale is too unwell for me to
see anything of her, and Aunt Catherine has her extraordinary friends to
amuse her; there is really nothing to keep us. You will come too, will
you not, Robert?"
To this the Colonel made no reply, and Elizabeth interpreted his silence
as her wishes dictated.
The next few days passed without any special event to mark them.
Elizabeth wished more and more to leave Bath, and to be able to persuade
Colonel Fitzwilliam to come too; for she felt an uneasiness that would
not be stifled as to the outcome of the various friendships that had
been inaugurated that year. In particular, she suspected the Steele and
Ferrars faction of making some mischief with her aunt; they were
incessantly with her, and it seemed to Elizabeth that Lady Catherine was
becoming what, with all her faults of overbearing pride, haughtiness and
love of flattery, she had never been before, namely, suspicious of evil
motives and thoughts in those around her. When her nephew and niece were
with her she would question them, and hardly accept their explanation of
their occupations at other times; she blamed everybody for what they
were doing, Mr. Morland for accepting the hospitality of the
Portinscales, Lady Portinscale for not entertaining, Captain Tilney for
not marrying, Anne Steele for wishing to do so, Colonel Fitzwilliam for
coming to Bath, and Georgiana for staying away. Mrs. Grant and Miss
Crawford were criticized for being in such an expensive place; but on
the whole, Lady Catherine said but little about them in a general way,
which Elizabeth regarded as a bad sign, for she was sure, that as
friends of _her_ choice, Lady Catherine must have a great deal to say in
private in their disfavour.
As to James Morland, Elizabeth felt there was everything to be said in
defence of his present situation; but she was so anxious for it to be
known that he was on the way to obtaining work, that she wanted to be at
home, in order to set the necessary arrangements in motion; though her
husband laughed at the idea of the vicar's resigning any sooner, because
the patron happened to be at Pemberley instead of at Bath.
It was, however, in regard to the progressing friendship between Mary
Crawford and Colonel Fitzwilliam that Elizabeth felt most troubled, and
as long as she remained in Bath, most helpless. Mary and Mrs. Grant
would not come and see her more often than she visited them; and
although there were numberless opportunities of meeting at the Rooms,
the gardens, the theatre, and other public places, on these occasions
there always seemed to be something to interfere with the enjoyment of
their little party. Either Lady Catherine was there, with the Steeles,
who could be depended on to break up any rational conversation or other
amusement, or, worse still, Sir Walter and Miss Elliot would appear on
the scene, and assuming the privileges of an older acquaintance, would
take possession of Mary and draw her away from her newer friends with
many protests of "having been _quite_ deserted--of having so much to say
to our dear Miss Crawford, whom we have missed so terribly lately." They
had, of course, a slight previous acquaintance with the Darcys, whom
they had intended to become intimate with at one time, as people of
fashion; but to Miss Elliot's intense chagrin, Mrs. Darcy had been quite
unresponsive to her, and had instead formed a friendship with her
younger sister, Mrs. Wentworth. Although the Wentworths and the Darcys
were frequently together, Elizabeth could not well confide her
difficulties to Anne, when it was so evident that Sir Walter Elliot was
another admirer of Miss Crawford, and not at all evident in which
direction the lady's choice would lie! It was hard to believe that she
could find true pleasure in the company of Sir Walter, with his tedious
inanities, or of Miss Elliot, with her artificiality and pride, and yet
at times she seemed to greet them almost with a heartiness, and be glad
to join them, even though she might have been a moment before in
conversation with the Darcy party and showing them her real self in a
charming and spontaneous gaiety. But those who watched closely might
have noticed that these times coincided with the appearance of Lady
Catherine, who, on seeing her nephew Colonel Fitzwilliam, usually
endeavoured to detach him from the group he was in and to join him to
her own. He, on his part, was always most unwilling to relinquish the
society of Miss Crawford, but she gave him no chance to do otherwise,
gliding away with a pleasant word of farewell before Lady Catherine's
insistent "I want you, Fitzwilliam, if you can spare me a _few_
moments," made itself heard. He had no key to her behaviour; sometimes
it seemed to him as if she really liked him, and as if he might venture
to hope he could make her like him more; and then, again, Sir Walter
Elliot was so frequently at her elbow, with the compliments and
gallantries which seemed to be his native language, and were so foreign,
Colonel Fitzwilliam thought, to himself, that, naturally diffident,
distrusting his powers to charm and attract, he often felt as if it were
hopeless even to think of becoming a suitor; while at the same time his
deepening love for Mary compelled him to persevere.
Elizabeth perceived some part of all this, and longed to help; but there
was something about Mary's reserve that made it impossible to win her
confidence, or to do anything more for Colonel Fitzwilliam than his own
powers were able to do for him. Mary never gave him what could be
construed into the smallest encouragement; it was only by observing that
with him she seemed to be able to talk more naturally, to express her
real opinions more frankly, that Elizabeth could surmise his interest in
her to be in the slightest degree reciprocated. Had it not been for the
very strong liking Elizabeth had formed for her new friend, she would
have been disposed to think that her cousin's happiness would best be
furthered by separating him from a pleasure that might become such great
pain. But after a conversation with him, in which he briefly admitted
his growing attachment and the existence of his hopes, she could not
advise him to give up the quest, and could only assure him of her
sympathy and belief in Mary's being a prize worth winning. He confessed
that he felt it was doing a wrong to Georgiana to indulge in such
thoughts so short a time after leaving her, and reproached himself with
his presumption in thinking that so brilliant and admired creature as
Mary could have any warmth of feeling for "a battered old soldier like
this," as he styled himself. Elizabeth tried to reason him out of these
scruples, and to give him all the good counsel that her knowledge of his
character suggested. She found that he did not believe he had at present
the remotest chance of being accepted; he only hoped, while they
remained in Bath, to win his way in Miss Crawford's esteem, and to be
assured that she had no preference for any other man.