Georgiana was alone in the drawing-room of Mrs. Annesley's house on the
following morning, practising the pianoforte, when the expected rap at
the front door was heard, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was presently ushered
into the room. She sprang up to welcome him, prepared for a cheerful
greeting, but was unspeakably concerned at the sight of his haggard face
and worn, exhausted looks, the more so because he made no attempt to
account for them, but forced a smile, accepted the chair which she
offered him, and endeavoured to speak as usual. Georgiana begged him to
partake of some refreshment, and expressed a fear that he was ill, not
daring to give utterance to her real conjecture.
"No, no, Georgiana, thank you. I will not have anything; I assure you I
am not ill. I have only come to wish you good-bye, as I have changed my
plans; I--I am thinking of going to Ireland."
"To Ireland!" repeated Georgiana in consternation.
"Yes, I have a friend who owns an estate there, and he has often invited
me to come over and fish and shoot with him, so I shall start to-night,
and take him by surprise, arriving early next week."
"But--to Ireland!" Georgiana could only repeat, so utterly bewildered
was she. "Dear Cousin Robert, I am so sorry; I wish you need not ...
would you not go to Pemberley? Elizabeth and Darcy would so gladly
receive you, or do anything--"
"I know they would; there is nothing that goodness and kindness suggest
that would not occur to them, but I do not think I could go there just
at present. Will you give them my love, Georgiana, when you are next
writing, and tell them of my movements? I will write to them from
Ireland and give them my direction."
"Indeed, indeed, I will, but may I not tell them anything more? Oh, how
I wish I could help you in any way," exclaimed Georgiana, anxiety
showing itself so acutely in every syllable that Fitzwilliam was forced
to get up to avert his face from hers, lest his self-command should be
too sorely tried.
"My dear, kind little cousin, I shall always be grateful to you, even
though I fear it is not in your power to help me just now. Some day,
perhaps, we may speak of it; in the meantime--I have had a great
disappointment, and I think I had better go away for awhile, so as to be
more fit to meet my friends when I return." He came back to her, raised
her up, and spoke with resolution and cheerfulness. "Come, Georgiana, do
not be sad, it is not worth while. I shall probably be at Pemberley in
the autumn, and we must do something then to make up for the loss of our
exploration party now. Do not think of me--at least, only think of me as
catching and eating a great many salmon. I hope you will have great deal
of pleasure still in London. You return to the Hursts to-day, do you
not? Will you make my excuses to Mrs. Annesley?"
During this speech Georgiana had striven to recover her composure, and
she managed at the conclusion of it to look up at him with a tolerably
calm face and to promise to deliver his messages. She felt convinced
that he had been refused by Miss Crawford, and the situation was to her
so dreadful, so far beyond repair, that it was a relief to see her
cousin's courage, and to know that he did not wish to hear vain and
spiritless words of consolation, words which she hardly could have been
able to utter, even had he been able to listen, from the very surcharge
of tender feeling that burdened her heart. Nevertheless, her sympathy
was reflected in her eyes, and in the gentle voice with which she bid
him adieu and wished him well. Fitzwilliam was not insensible to it. It
gave him the only comfort he could have received at such a time; and
pressing her hand warmly, with a very earnest "God bless you!" he
quitted the room.
As his footsteps died away Georgiana sank into a chair and wept
bitterly. So brief had been his visit--a few ticks of the clock had seen
his arrival and his departure; and in those few moments the aspect of
everything had changed. Since their last meeting Georgiana had dwelt
incessantly upon his prospects of happiness, and allowed herself to
think of them as being in a fair way to become realized. The difficulty
which Elizabeth must have referred to, and Mr. Yates had actually hinted
at, could surely be cleared away now that he and Miss Crawford had met
again; and Georgiana had not been able to read cruelty or harshness in
that fair face. Time only--a very short time--would be necessary, and
once Miss Crawford knew Fitzwilliam as he was, the rest would follow as
a matter of course: for how could any woman whom he really loved be able
to resist him? So reasoned Georgiana, and the collapse of her kindly
hopes brought back all her old sense of personal guilt; she, too, was
partly responsible for her cousin's dire fate, for was she not one of
the two women who had failed to make him happy? She who had not been
able to inspire him with a real love, and Miss Crawford who could not
respond to it now it was fully awakened.
The luxury of grief could not be long indulged in, for tear-stained
features must not be shown to her friends, nor was there leisure that
day to pour out her heart in a letter to Elizabeth. Georgiana had to
keep her sorrowful thoughts to herself, and fortunately it was not
necessary to give any explanation of Colonel Fitzwilliam's abrupt
departure from town to Mrs. Annesley; the simple statement that he had
gone, leaving apologies and suitable compliments, was sufficient. With
her hostesses in Grosvenor Street, however, it was a different matter,
and Georgiana lacked courage to introduce the subject until a morning or
two later, at breakfast, choosing the moment when the letters had just
been brought in and everyone had only that remnant of attention to spare
which their meal and their correspondence had not absorbed. Mr. Hurst
asked a question or two, which, as his wife and sister were speaking at
the same time, went so long unanswered that he quite forgot them; Louisa
showed surprise and offended dignity that the Colonel had not paid a
farewell call on her before leaving; while Caroline, with less pride and
a great deal of curiosity, attempted at first to draw Georgiana into
some admission beyond the mere mention of the fact, but remembering by
happy chance to have heard the name of the friend in Ireland, and even
that of his estate, she was able to her own satisfaction to convert the
mysterious journey into an engagement of respectably long standing.
Georgiana breathed more freely; she had dreaded Miss Bingley's
cross-examination, and still so dreaded anyone guessing at her cousin's
misfortune that she even deviated so far from her usual truthfulness as
to say, "Yes, probably he had been intending to go all the time, as soon
as the weather should be suitable."
It was the greatest comfort to feel that with Elizabeth there need be no
concealment. Already a description of the meeting with Miss Crawford had
travelled to Pemberley, but with none but the simplest and most obvious
comment; Georgiana asked, as directed by Fitzwilliam, for more
particulars connected with her new acquaintance, but until she had been
openly admitted to a share in her elders' knowledge she did not like to
speak of what was still mere guesswork. But now, although Elizabeth's
answer had not yet been received, she felt she could write more freely;
she only had been allowed a glimpse of her cousin's inmost heart, she
only had witnessed his grief and had been allowed to surmise its origin;
she could be the indirect means of bringing him the quick sympathy of
his two best friends, and she was justified in telling her sister of all
she knew and all she conjectured. "He had been refused, dear Elizabeth,"
ran one sentence, "it can be nothing else, and I fear it is irrevocable.
Poor Cousin Robert! He feels it so terribly. Can nothing be done for
him? You know her, you know them both, he is sure to tell you all. Do
help him, dear Elizabeth; you always help people who are in trouble."
Her letter closed and dispatched, she experienced a feeling of relief
from strain, having left her cousin's affairs in more capable hands than
her own. His sad face long haunted her, but the words she had written
reminded her of another person who was now probably calling upon
Elizabeth for sympathy and help. Not that Kitty had been by any means
forgotten, but in the silence that followed on her departure, and the
new interest that had occupied the last few days, the ball and its
attendant emotions had been rather pushed to one side. But Georgiana had
returned to Grosvenor Street fully expecting to find a letter from
Derbyshire, or intelligence of Kitty in some other form.
Her own letter to Elizabeth, concluded the morning after the ball, had
contained, in addition to an account of that memorable event, a
paragraph to this effect: "Kitty has something extremely interesting to
tell you. I shall not spoil her pleasure by anticipating her, but only
add that I believe everything is going to turn out just as happily as
she would like and as we should like for her. Pray, pray, give me your
opinion on this important matter as soon as you can form one. I am
longing to have it." A reply to this letter was indeed awaiting her, but
did not give the desired information, as Elizabeth, though anxious to
hear Kitty's news, had not yet had an opportunity of seeing her, and
Kitty herself had not written. She was a wretched correspondent, and the
delights of the first few days with Jane and the children doubtless
absorbed both head and hands. Bingley's own notes to his sisters during
that week were useless. One announced his and Kitty's safe arrival,
another requested the forwarding of some stockings he had left behind;
was it likely that such communications would have any bearing upon an
important matter like the progress of a young lady's love affair? As to
Mr. Price, Georgiana knew nothing, and was prepared for anything; it was
quite possible that he had been unable to wait for the shooting of Mr.
Bingley's pheasants and was at that moment in Derbyshire.
Upon this point, however, elucidation was presently forthcoming. At the
dinner-table that afternoon Miss Bingley suddenly inquired: "Did I tell
you, Georgiana, that we had a call from Charles's friend, Mr. Price, one
day last week?"
"No," replied Georgiana, startled by such an abrupt incursion into the
subject. "I had not heard. Were you at home? Did you see him?"
"Yes, we were all at home. He is an agreeable young fellow; manners a
little too self-possessed, perhaps, for his age, but they are what these
naval men acquire. He asked after you, rather as if he expected to find
you here."
Georgiana said to herself that he wanted the latest news of Kitty, or,
at all events, any he could not obtain from Mrs. Knightley, and was glad
to be saved the necessity of replying aloud by Mrs. Hurst's beginning to
speak. Yes, they had quite liked him; she thought of inviting him to
fill a vacant place at a dinner she was giving the following week, for
these young men who had travelled could always talk entertainingly
enough to be worth while; but she would like to be assured of his
character; she fancied he had been a good deal run after and spoilt, and
certainly he was a great flirt.
Georgiana's heart swelled, and her pulse beat quick at such an
accusation, while she uttered a mild but steady protest against it. Mrs.
Hurst maintained her ground, but her young guest was supported by Miss
Bingley, who said: "Nonsense, Louisa, you know I have told you there is
really nothing in that. All these young officers, especially those who
have seen service, are bound to be run after, whether they will or not.
And as to his being a great flirt, we have seen him once or twice going
about with a very good-looking woman, and that is all the reason we have
for thinking so."
"How can you say such a thing, Caroline? Mr. Price is perfectly at
liberty to go about with as many handsome women as he likes, even if
their brothers are notoriously vicious, but if he is engaged to one of
them--and from all we heard and saw at Emma Knightley's the other night
he certainly ought to be--one has a right to expect a little more
discretion."
"It is not at all certain that he is engaged to Kitty Bennet, I
believe," said Caroline; "you know Emma Knightley's great schemes do not
always come to anything." Georgiana was thereupon appealed to by both
sisters to give a denial or confirmation of the fact alleged, and she
could only say that she believed that at present he and Kitty were not
engaged.
"That rather supports my opinion of him," said Mrs. Hurst. "But I shall
be glad to be proved wrong. Georgiana, if you are behind the scenes, you
must let us know as soon as there is anything to be told."
"And in the meantime, unless you think Mr. Price likely to injure our
morals, you had better invite him to dinner," added her sister.
Georgiana felt unaccountably disturbed by this conversation. She could
not bear hearing a person ill spoken of whom she had every wish and
reason to like and esteem, and though she felt sure her own impressions
of Mr. Price, which differed so widely from Mrs. Hurst's, were far more
likely to be the correct ones, her timidity in trusting her own
judgments caused her to pause and wonder whether she had been too hasty
in being so impulsively delighted with him; ought she not, as Kitty's
friend, to be more cautious until she had been sure that he was not
going to disappoint the hopes of that friend? That he _had_ raised high
hopes, Georgiana knew, but even supposing Kitty's imagination had been
her strong ally, his attentions, and Kitty's willing acceptance of them,
had clearly been such as to expose her to remark. Georgiana sighed over
the difficulties of the whole problem. She could not bring herself to
believe that William Price was a flirt, though the picture of him in
constant attendance upon a handsome woman who had doubtful relations,
when he should have thought only of Kitty, was an unwelcome one. No one
with that countenance, that frank smile and clear honest eye could
surely be other than he seemed, and yet--Georgiana had not to look far
into the past to find a disappointment, as unexpected, as severe, as Mr.
Price's defection could be. The persons who were apparently most
attractive could often fail one most disastrously. With Miss Crawford's
image on one side of her, and William Price's on the other, Georgiana
felt that anything was possible, but she resolved to keep an open mind;
she recollected that Kitty and Mrs. Knightley must know him more
intimately than Mrs. Hurst did, and in trying to obliterate the latter's
words from her mind she fell into a reverie, wherein she lived again
through every joyous moment of Mrs. Knightley's ball.
During the ensuing week the long-wished-for letters arrived, but, as is
usual in such cases, they fell far short of expectation. Which of us has
not looked forward, some time or another, to receiving a letter which we
are convinced will have an important effect upon our minds? It will
clear up a mystery, give specific information, console us in affliction,
or furnish the exact counsels which we need; we depend upon it for one
or all of these things, and we continue to do so, even though the letter
which arrives after so much anticipation is almost always inadequate. It
tells us half instead of all we expected our correspondent to know, its
advice has overlooked our difficulties and does not meet the case, its
words of comfort are few and arid. Yet hope leads us ever on, and the
envelope bearing our friend's handwriting is torn open with as much
eagerness at the fiftieth crisis as at the first. Georgiana put down
Elizabeth's letter with a feeling of disappointment, yet telling herself
that she could not have expected anything else. Elizabeth wrote that
various matters had prevented her from seeing Kitty up to that time,
but that she had heard from Jane all particulars of Kitty's
acquaintanceship with Mr. Price, with additional interest from having
heard his name already from the Wentworths, and was inclined to
entertain the most favourable hopes regarding it; it was difficult to
say more without seeing the young people together, and they could only
look forward to the visit in November, and trust to it to bring about
the happiest results. This was the ordinary, sensible view, and
Georgiana took up Kitty's letter wondering whether she was now calm
enough in mind to be induced to take the same.
"Desborough Park,
"July.
"My Dear Georgiana,
"I make no apology for not writing, for you know what it is like here
the first few days, so much to see, and Jane wanting me all the time,
besides, you have all the news, now that I have left London there is
nothing for me to relate. I received your letter from Mrs. Annesley's,
but pray write again as soon as you possibly can and tell me if you have
seen anything of Mr. P----. I was so enchanted to hear Miss Bingley ask
him to call, as it meant I should hear of him from you. He stayed on
quite a long time at the ball, and Mrs. Knightley told me he thanked her
in such a _particular_ and _unmistakable_ way when he said good-night! I
forgot to ask you, do you not think he dances exquisitely? I have never
worn that rose-coloured gown since. How I long for November! What shall
I do if he is prevented? I cannot describe how thankful I am that I did
not go with Lydia to the West Indies. I have seen Mr. Morland, whom you
told me of, a great many times; indeed, he spends half his time here, as
Jane and Bingley are very fond of him. He is very pleasant, considering
he is a clergyman. He is laying out his garden at the Rectory afresh,
and Jane is giving him a quantity of plants, so we go down there
frequently to help him to put them in. Now I must conclude, as Mr.
Morland is coming to take me out in a boat on the lake. It will be very
amusing, as I have never been able to get near enough to the
water-lilies to gather them, but as I say to Mr. Morland, we can neither
of us swim, and what will happen then? Jane sends you many messages.
"Your affectionate friend."
A postscript on another page added: "Mrs. K. says that Mr. P. is likely
to be made commander very soon. I hope he will not be, for he would have
to join the ship immediately, but would not _Captain Price_ sound well?"
_Captain Price_ sounded very well; even Georgiana could not help
thinking so, as she smiled over Kitty's artless question, which resented
the promotion while it welcomed the title. This letter, too, was just
what might have been expected; Kitty was nursing her attachment in the
country just as she had nursed it in town, and Georgiana was called upon
to supply it with nourishment. She would have to wait until after she
had seen Mr. Price to know whether any was forthcoming.
Mrs. Hurst's dinner-party took place, and closely resembled every other
function of the same kind in fashionable houses, being very long, very
correct and very sumptuous. Georgiana wished that Louisa would place her
next to Mr. Price, but this was not done, and accordingly, though he
walked straight towards her after having spoken to his host and
hostesses, he had scarcely inquired after her health before he was drawn
away to be introduced to his dinner partner, while Georgiana was
accosted by hers, a certain Captain Wentworth whom, with his wife, she
had met in Bath the year before. The Wentworths went there regularly,
and the friendship which existed between them and the Darcy family had
been renewed there in the previous April. On one occasion, when they had
all happened to be in town together, Elizabeth had introduced the
Wentworths to Mrs. Hurst, and the result had been a liking on the part
of that lady stronger than with her cold and narrow disposition she was
usually inclined to form. The liking was not, perhaps, quite so heartily
returned, but Captain Wentworth was sociable and enjoyed mixing with the
world, and Anne's tender solicitude for him caused her to accept
willingly any invitations likely to procure him amusement, both at
Winchester, where they lived, and in the course of their frequent visits
to town.
Captain Wentworth well remembered Mr. and Mrs. Darcy's shy, handsome
sister, and prepared for a pleasant evening when he found in her less of
the former quality, and even more than she had used to possess of the
latter. On her other side was seated the alarming Mr. Knightley, and
Georgiana was glad to find she had at all events one companion so
conversable as Captain Wentworth, who belonged to the profession she was
most interested in, even though he was not the representative of it
which she would have chosen.
Their talk was lively, for Captain Wentworth had the art of treating
subjects amusingly, and of drawing from his companion professions of
opinion which she had not till then known herself to hold. Somehow or
other they had drifted on to the topic of inconsistency in sailors, and
Captain Wentworth gravely undertook their defence against this charge.
"I assure you, Miss Darcy, it is a great mistake, made only because
people are unacquainted with our true character. It is of long standing,
but a fallacy just as much as many other accepted fallacies--for
instance, that parrots always talk bad language, that ladies cannot
keep accounts, that the King can do no wrong, etc."
"Oh, stop, please, Captain Wentworth," interposed Georgiana. "You are
opening up too many vexed questions. I was going to say," she added more
seriously, "that no doubt you are quite right, but I should think if
they are inconstant it would not be so very strange, for they must have
so many temptations."
"Not at all; I protest they have no more excuse on that head than any
other class of man. If a man is inconstant by nature, he will be so,
whether he is a sailor or a butcher's assistant. I speak from
experience, for I know I tried very hard to be inconstant, and could not
succeed, though I had as many temptations as mist."
"Knowing Mrs. Wentworth," said Georgiana, with a smile at that lady, "I
cannot help being aware of how strong a temptation you had to be the
reverse."
"Exactly; and so would it be with anyone who had once given whatever
affection he had to bestow. How have you got the idea, Miss Darcy, that
we poor men of the sea are so fickle?"
"Indeed, no, I have not got it," replied Georgiana, trying to speak
lightly. "I was merely speculating, for I know too little about it to
form any judgments. It was put into my mind through hearing someone say
that young officers were so much sought after everywhere; and I thought,
if that were so, it was only natural that the amiable ones might find,
eventually, that they had formed many more friendships than they could
possibly keep up."
"Very considerately put, Miss Darcy; but, in effect, what you mean is
that they continually 'love and ride away.' Sailors may have more
opportunity for that kind of living, but, upon my word, I do not believe
they have more inclination. But granting that it is so, I gather that
you are prepared to forgive them this little weakness?"
"That is asking rather too much, Captain Wentworth," replied Georgiana,
in the same spirit of gaiety. Had she spoken the whole truth, she would
have said: "Certainly not, if any friend of mine were involved," but not
wishing her companion to think that their chat had any personal
application, she continued: "I shall be able to tell better when I have
met with such a case," and turned the subject off with a smile.
Soon after the ladies returned to the drawing-room Georgiana seated
herself beside Mrs. Wentworth, whose gentle manners, combined with
serenity of temper and the power she had of entering, unobtrusively, but
none the less sincerely, into the feelings of others, had for Georgiana
a strong attraction. They had not met for so long that there was much to
be talked over between them. Mrs. Wentworth presently asked after
Colonel Fitzwilliam, and explained that she happened to know he was in
town through seeing him a few nights previously at the theatre, where
she had been with a party invited by her father and sister. Georgiana
replied that he was well, but had gone away since then; and so as not to
dwell on the subject, asked for a description of the play, which led
them on to other topics of interest, when they were interrupted by Mrs.
Knightley's joining them. Her errand was merely to ask for news of
Kitty, and Georgiana, rather than resenting the smile of mutual
understanding with which the question was put, answered as briefly as
she could without discourtesy.
Mrs. Knightley then began talking of other things, and resettled herself
in her chair, so that Georgiana despaired of having Mrs. Wentworth to
herself any more that evening; but perceiving she was not wanted
elsewhere, she continued to retain her place until the gentlemen entered
the room, simultaneously with the tea and coffee, which the servants
began to dispense. Mr. Price obtained cups immediately, and brought them
across the room to the group of ladies, at once warmly greeting Mrs.
Wentworth. Mrs. Knightley remained beside them, and Georgiana indulged
in a little private regret, partly on her own account and partly on his,
for she knew he must be wanting to talk to her about Kitty, and since
there was music during the evening, the present might be the only
opportunity they would have. She began to think of moving away, for Mr.
Price seemed quite monopolized by Mrs. Knightley, who was endeavouring
to show him off by asking him questions and calling Mrs. Wentworth's
attention to the answers; and though Georgiana was grateful to his
efforts to draw her in, by an occasional smiling glance at her and a
"Don't you think so, Miss Darcy?" there did not seem to be any place for
a fourth in their conversation.
Presently, however, an interruption arrived in the person of Captain
Wentworth, who came, with coffee-cup in hand, to join their group, and
as Mr. Price stood aside to give him room, he exclaimed cheerfully:
"Well, Price, have you and my wife undertaken the conversion of Miss
Darcy yet? Here has someone been deluding her with most horrible picture
of us sailors--'one foot on sea, and one on shore, to one thing constant
never'--you know the rest of it. I have been trying to persuade her that
it is all wrong."
Georgiana, blushing and smiling, began to protest, and Mrs. Wentworth,
to spare her, also treated it as a joke, but Mrs. Knightley, when she
had comprehended Captain Wentworth's meaning, gave her a look of no
great goodwill, and said: "Surely Miss Darcy does not take seriously
what is merely a vulgar tradition. 'Men were deceivers ever' was not
written with special reference to sailors, I imagine, but to men in
general."
"Of course not," said Captain Wentworth, with mock gravity; "but Miss
Darcy does not base her suspicions on those lines only, but on far more
serious premises."
"Frederick, I will not have you tease Miss Darcy so unmercifully," said
Mrs. Wentworth. "It is really too bad. I am sure you have placed words
in her mouth which she never uttered, has he not, Miss Darcy?"
Georgiana, struggling with embarrassment, amusement and not a little
real vexation, as she was conscious of Mr. Price's eyes being turned
silently upon her, could not protest as intelligibly as she would have
wished. "Yes, Mrs. Wentworth, it is quite untrue--I never said anything
of the kind. Captain Wentworth, you are unfair--not that it really
matters--but I said I had no opinion on the subject--I only thought I
could quite understand their being changeable, if they were."
Whether her hearers could extract any meaning from these words, she did
not know, but it was certain that her confusion stood her in good stead,
for Captain Wentworth immediately apologized with just as much
seriousness as was needful. "I am very sorry, Miss Darcy; pray excuse my
stupidity. I was so distressed to feel that we, as a class, should merit
your disapproval in even one particular, that I wanted to clear our
characters--and, after all, you are so kind as to imply that they needed
no clearing."
"I do not think Miss Darcy implied that," said Mrs. Knightley, "and I
confess myself curious to learn why she thinks naval men are likely to
be changeable; it would be interesting to compare notes, for my
experience of them has led me to the opposite conclusion."
Georgiana felt the double edge in Mrs. Knightley's words, and it was
painful to her to be so completely misunderstood, even in such a
trifling matter; but she had hardly recovered her composure enough to
defend herself when Captain Wentworth took the matter out of her hands.
"Miss Darcy's experience of inconstancy in sailors has been a sad one,
Mrs. Knightley," he said solemnly. "It is drawn entirely from books and
plays, and we know how persistently they look on the dark side of human
nature. She only needs to become acquainted better with real life, as
personified in myself, Mr. Price" (with a bow to William) "and many
other admirable specimens of naval men, to form the soundest of opinions
of us. Pardon me, Miss Darcy, for assuming the role of spokesman, but I
fancied the fear of offending my modesty might have prevented you from
expressing such sentiments as you would wish."
"I hope you will always interpret me as correctly as you have done,
Captain Wentworth," returned Georgiana, smiling; and seeing that Mrs.
Knightley was beginning to speak in a low tone to Mr. Price, and not
wishing to hear any of her comments, she turned to Mrs. Wentworth and
proposed that they should move to chairs nearer the pianoforte. They
therefore turned in that direction, but Mr. Price could hardly have any
time to reply to Mrs. Knightley, for an instant later he was at
Georgiana's side, asking if he might find her a seat; and Mrs. Wentworth
being just then drawn away by Miss Bingley, she not unwillingly allowed
him to lead her to a sofa on the opposite side of the room, to procure
her another cup of coffee, her own having been removed, and to sit
beside her, talking quietly and agreeably in a manner that soothed her
nerves, irritated as they were by Captain Wentworth's ill-timed
raillery. She listened absently, without saying much, grateful to him
for not renewing the subject which had just been dropped and hoping he
had not attached any importance to it; but her attention was all alert
when after a pause he inquired: "Have you good accounts of Miss Bennet
since she left town?"
She tried to collect her scattered ideas, to remember what Kitty
expected of her. Yes, she had had good accounts; she thought her friend
was very well and, she believed, enjoying the country, though it
probably seemed very quiet to her after such a long visit to London.
William Price assented, and said that Miss Bennet had so much freshness
and enthusiasm, she could enjoy many things, and enter keenly into them
all.
Georgiana fully endorsed this, but thought that Kitty had had a
particularly delightful visit to town this year and really regretted
leaving.
William Price said that Miss Bennet's friends were very sorry to lose
her.
"This is all very well," thought Georgiana, "but we do not get any
farther. Am I shy of him, or is he shy of me? Oh, I wonder what Kitty
would like me to say? If I were Mrs. Knightley I could probably bring in
the inconstancy of sailors with good effect. I suppose she thinks that I
mean to throw a doubt on Mr. Price; how unlucky that it should have had
that appearance!"
She was assisted in her meditations by Mr. Price's remarking that he had
never been in Derbyshire, and imagined it to be a beautiful county, and
this afforded her the opportunity of descanting on the loveliness of its
scenery and the particular attractions of the country round Desborough
Park. She added that she hoped there would be nothing to prevent him
from seeing it for himself that autumn, and he replied warmly, agreeing
and saying that if he were still his own master at that time nothing
should prevent it. A question or two about Pemberley followed, and the
relative positions of the two houses; he had heard of it as being a show
place from his sister, Mrs. Bertram, who had made a tour through the
midland counties to visit all the cathedrals and old churches, but, he
declared, had actually been so worldly as to look at one or two of the
grand mansions as well. Georgiana questioned its worldliness, and was
told that his brother and sister were the dearest people, but dreadfully
good; they thought everything wrong.
This description, of which Georgiana would have liked to have heard
more, was interrupted by a song, and at its conclusion Mr. Price was
waiting with the inquiry: "Do you return to Pemberley soon, Miss Darcy?"
"In about a month, I think; but I leave town in a fortnight's time to
stay with my aunt at Hunsford."
"I am leaving London almost immediately, I am sorry to say," said
William Price. "I have to go down to Portsmouth, where my mother is
changing houses, and as she has that and a quantity of lawyers' business
on her hands, since my father died, she wishes me to help her."
Georgiana could not but approve of this decision, but she thought it
partly accounted for the young man's being in far less good spirits this
evening than on the previous occasion; he evidently did not like to quit
London. She was endeavouring to think of a way of conveying to him that
she would see Kitty almost as soon as she reached home, when the opening
of a solo on the harp caused her to forget everything but the sound of
the instrument, in which she had always taken extreme delight. Mr.
Price, too, listened with close attention, and when it was over, and
they were commending the performance, he exclaimed: "The harp always
reminds me of one of the most charming women I ever knew, who used to
play it--still does, I daresay, at all events it is associated
inseparably with her."
Curiosity as well as politeness impelled Georgiana to ask for more
particulars, for she privately wished very much to know what her
companion's idea of a charming woman might be, and he answered readily
enough: "She was a lady I first met some years ago at Mansfield before
my sister's marriage; she was a friend of the whole Bertram family, and,
in a way, of my sister's also; but circumstances divided them, Miss
Crawford's people left the neighbourhood, and now I only see her
occasionally in town."
Miss Darcy's start and heightening of colour did not escape him; he
looked inquiringly at her, and question and answer broke from them both
simultaneously. "Yes, I have met Miss Crawford," said Georgiana, "what a
very strange thing! I was introduced to her in the gardens the other day
by--by a mutual friend, and I had heard of her before from my brother
and sister."
"That is indeed strange! I wish I had known when I was with her last. I
have been seeing a good deal of Mrs. Grant, her sister, and Miss
Crawford lately, being myself that abomination, an idle man about town,
but it has just this once had its agreeable side."
Georgiana murmured that she had supposed he was seldom in London for so
long, and he continued, with perfect ease and frankness: "Quite true;
indeed, I have never before had time to see the sights; and Miss
Crawford, who is a regular Londoner, takes me about to them, in order,
she says, to waste my time as usefully as possible. To-day we were at a
picture gallery, and last week we went to see an exhibition of silver,
models of ships, most interesting and unusual it was; I would not have
missed it for the world. The curious design and rigging of them! I
should like to have shown them to you, Miss Darcy."
Georgiana echoed his wish, but was so much interested in pursuing her
theory that Miss Crawford was the handsome young woman Mrs. Hurst had
spoken of, that she ventured one more question: "You said you had known
Miss Crawford for some time, Mr. Price?"
"Oh, yes, for years; looking back on it, I must have been quite a small
boy when we first met; at all events, I regarded her as being one of my
elders. That is a very ungallant thing to say, is it not? I do not know
why I said it. But I always had a great regard for her, and when the
families were alienated I always tried to keep in touch with her and
Mrs. Grant, for the severance was through no fault of hers, only her
brother's--though I know the blame for it has often been laid at her
door."
How easy it is to believe in people, if only we wish to do so! This
speech fully accounted for all that had been heard of Mr. Price, and
acquitted him of any lightness of conduct; he had merely been faithful
to an old friend; and Miss Crawford was only proved more worthy than
before of Colonel Fitzwilliam's esteem. Georgiana longed to inquire
further, to see if Mr. Price could throw more light on the recent
perplexing event, but felt it would be presumption to do so, and he sat
musing for a few moments, unaware of the sentiments he had aroused in
his companion, until, in response to a remark from her, he exclaimed
warmly: "Yes, she is indeed a beautiful woman, and as charming as
beautiful. You would like her, Miss Darcy, if you knew her. I heard this
evening that she was engaged; I do not know if it is true, but I am
inclined to hope not if I heard the name aright; still, one must presume
it will be all for the best."
He spoke the last words somewhat hurriedly, as if not wishing to dwell
on them, but could not overlook the anxiety in Georgiana's face and
voice. "Is she engaged, Mr. Price? I thought perhaps that might be the
case. Do you know to whom it is?"
"I heard a name mentioned, Miss Darcy, but I do not like--I am uncertain
whether it is correct--I should like to verify it first," said William
Price, in some embarrassment.
"Of course, I quite understand. It would not be fair to say anything
until you are sure. But no doubt it is true." And Georgiana, with a
sigh, fell into a reverie, which her companion, observing her with
solicitude, did not venture to interrupt.
They were divided a few minutes later, Georgiana being called upon to
contribute a solo upon the pianoforte, and she could not help feeling
gratified to see that William Price listened attentively to her playing,
for the love of music was in her eyes, an additionally attractive
feature in anyone's character. These were the pleasantest impressions
she derived from the evening, for on the whole they had been sad ones;
she had inadvertently exposed herself to being misunderstood by Mrs.
Knightley, and perhaps by Mrs. Wentworth, for whose esteem she cared far
more; she had not been able to say one word to help Kitty, and would
have no news to give of the kind that Kitty was longing for; and, worst
of all, her fears for her cousin were confirmed; instead of anyone being
able to help him, he could only be told that the disappointment he had
experienced was a final and permanent one. Georgiana's thoughts were all
for him; they hardly even strayed to speculate upon Miss Crawford's
choice, except for a touch of wondering pity for one who had possessed
his regard and thrown it away for another's. No; the world was
determinedly awry, and Georgiana went to bed longing for the comfort of
Elizabeth and Pemberley, and dreading the days to be spent under the
judicial and unsympathetic eye of her Aunt Catherine.