Elizabeth and her husband desired Georgiana's return as much as she did
herself, but Lady Catherine had been very urgent that her niece should
visit her, and they judged it right that she should take the opportunity
of going, while comparatively near Rosings. Georgiana had never before
stayed there without the protection of her brother's or sister's
presence; but she found it to be less alarming than she feared, for her
aunt was probably disposed to be more complaisant and less dictatorial
to her than to any other living creature; and while not comprehending
her niece's character in the least, wished to make her happy, if it were
possible to be happy, in the best Rosings manner. So Georgiana
obediently played the piano, joined in games of quadrille, drove out
with her cousin in the pony chaise, endured her aunt's admonishments,
and listened politely to Lady Catherine's long stories about her own
youth; and the time did at length pass away, though not until she had
many times decided that London, even with the agitations that it had
afforded this year, was far less wearing to the temper and spirits.
The date of her homecoming was fixed for the fifth of August, and an
escort was unexpectedly found in the person of Mr. Bennet, who had made
one of his sudden resolves to go and stay with his two daughters, Mrs.
Bennet having the prospect of her sister, Mrs. Phillips's, companionship
throughout that month. Georgiana was enchanted when this decision was
conveyed to her, as it ensured that no postponement of the journey would
be made upon any pretext. Mr. Bennet had proposed visiting his daughters
and bringing back Kitty, and the first part of this suggestion was
warmly welcomed; the second they could not promise to accede to, but Mr.
Bennet would be conferring a signal service if he would meet Miss Darcy
in London and bring her home. Mr. Bennet declared himself quite
agreeable; let Miss Darcy name her own day for starting, and it should
be his; but once named, it must be considered fixed, for Mr. Bennet, it
must be noted, had a wife and five daughters, and knew something of the
variability of the female mind. He had, however, never been in less
danger of a change of plans than on this occasion.
Elizabeth had received the first intimation of her father's intended
visit shortly after dispatching to Georgiana the letter which has been
mentioned, and having now so many matters to talk over with Jane, she
determined on going to Desborough without delay. An hour or two's chat
would not be sufficient, and she therefore arranged to stay for a night
and return the following afternoon, and pressed Darcy to accompany her;
but this he declined to do, telling her that he should only be in the
way when she, Jane and Kitty were putting their heads together for a
feminine conclave, and Bingley was as bad as the rest.
It happened that Jane was alone when she arrived, Bingley being out
riding with Kitty and Mr. Morland; but he was not long in returning,
and when Kitty had greeted her sister, and retired to change her dress,
he joined the conference, as Darcy had foretold.
"Well, Elizabeth," he began, "and how do you find Kitty? I never saw her
in better looks. And has Jane told you about my young friend in London,
who, it appears, is an admirer of hers? I declare I had not an idea of
it when I asked him to come down, but it turns out very well as it
happens."
Elizabeth admitted herself informed, and asked Bingley for particulars
of Mr. Price's character, appearance and manners, of which it was to be
presumed he could give a more reasonable account than Kitty. He spoke
warmly in the young man's praise, and mentioned what he had heard of his
family and connections from Mr. Yates.
"It seems most satisfactory," said Elizabeth, "and his being a friend of
the Wentworths is a further recommendation. I am quite looking forward
to meeting him, though time alone will show if there is anything in it."
"Kitty has set her heart on it to such an extent, that I feel extremely
anxious that she may have no disappointment," said Jane with tenderness.
"It would be enough to make her ill, her sensibilities are so acute! One
can see how she watches for the letters from Mrs. Knightley, and the
eagerness with which she reads them."
"Whatever Mrs. Knightley may do," said Elizabeth, "in my opinion we
should not be acting wisely by Kitty in encouraging her to talk and
think much about it. On the young man's side it has not gone beyond a
promising inclination, I infer, and it may never be more."
"You are a prudent creature, Elizabeth," exclaimed her brother-in-law;
"but as regards Kitty, your precautions are too late, as I know to my
cost. There was I thinking I was bringing down the very girl for Morland
to fall in love with--indeed, I had almost told him so--and now it
appears she is more than half engaged to someone else, and what good is
that to a man who wants a wife to establish in that big house of his?"
"Well," said Elizabeth, laughing, "you need not reproach yourself,
Charles. A house and living were promised to Mr. Morland; but a wife, I
believe, was not in the bond."
"It would have been very pleasant to have provided him with one,
nevertheless," returned Bingley. "As it is, they see a great deal of
each other, and are such excellent friends, that if it were not all such
a profound secret it would be incumbent on me to give him a hint of the
state of things."
Elizabeth looked at her sister for confirmation of this, and Jane
replied: "Yes, they are good friends. Kitty seems to enjoy his
companionship, and he has evidently a strong liking for her, so that I
sometimes feel afraid lest it should develop into anything likely to
cause him pain hereafter. But, of course, as I have repeatedly told
Bingley, even in view of such a contingency we have no right to betray
our knowledge of Kitty's private hopes."
As Mr. Morland dined at Desborough, Elizabeth had an opportunity of
observing the young people, and she thought she had seldom seen Kitty to
greater advantage; her particularly delicate beauty was heightened
partly by excitement and partly by the healthful country life. She was
at perfect ease, happy with her sisters and Mr. Bingley, and treating
Mr. Morland much as she would have treated an elderly friend of the
family, not as a man to be captivated. The feeling of frank
goodfellowship which he seemed to inspire was a simple and wholesome
one, and Elizabeth tried to rest assured that Mr. Morland was aware of
Kitty's attitude towards him and wished for nothing more. That, indeed,
was the impression he gave; but the longer she was with him, the more
clearly she perceived that now his circumstances were more settled a
quiet contentment, an evenness of temper, had become habitual to him,
without taking away the earnestness, the steadfastness of purpose, which
underlay the whole. She felt that she did not yet thoroughly know Mr.
Morland; and the following morning, in the course of a brief talk with
Kitty, she suggested to her in the gentlest possible way of the
desirability of not allowing so excellent a young man, who was also a
solitary one, to entertain thoughts of her which might be so much more
easily admitted to his mind than expelled from it. Kitty had just been
giving wings to her imagination in a description of Mr. Price, which
Elizabeth had felt herself hard-hearted to be obliged to check, and the
young girl with difficulty came down to earth again to Mr. Morland, to
assure Elizabeth, with all haste of indifference, that she was positive
that Morland did not think of her in that way; he only cared for his
parish and his house, and as for his being solitary--why, his sister
Sarah was coming to live with him.
Elizabeth was compelled to be content, and, in addition, she secured a
promise from Jane that Kitty should come to Pemberley about the middle
of September. Kitty was delighted with the arrangement, so long as there
was one which secured her return to Desborough for the shooting-party
early in November. Her eldest sister exhibited an almost equal amount of
eagerness on her behalf to settle this important matter; and Kitty, who
had been living in terror lest some cruel fate should intervene to send
her back to Longbourn before that time, breathed more freely when her
sisters undertook to obtain her father's consent to such a long absence.
Mr. Bennet and Georgiana duly arrived at Pemberley, and were welcomed
with all the warmth that affection could show. They had been a curiously
assorted pair of travelling companions, and their relations had
speculated with amusement upon their chances of congeniality. Neither
being talkers, they had at least had that in common, though after their
arrival Georgiana smilingly reproached Mr. Bennet with having intently
studied a book of Latin poetry throughout the whole journey, and Mr.
Bennet gravely apologized for not having selected a volume more suitable
for reading aloud; he was sorry he had not been at more pains to while
away the time for a young lady who was exceedingly punctual, and always
ready when the carriage came round. For his own part, he declared that
he felt himself becoming more conversational with every mile of the way,
in proof of which he twice voluntarily told Elizabeth during the first
hour that he was glad to see her again, and announced that, after his
own library, there was no place he would sooner be in than Mr. Darcy's.
The first evening was a cheerful one, there was so much to say, so many
friends to inquire after, adventures to relate, and plans to detail. The
children were brought in, and, according to the time-honoured custom
everywhere, were pronounced to have grown, though it is to be feared
that Mr. Bennet was not an ideal grandparent, for he so far
miscalculated as to bring them toys which they could not properly
appreciate for some years at least; and Elizabeth wanted to hear of
little William and Elizabeth Collins, with whom Georgiana had often
played at Hunsford Parsonage, and who were described as being strikingly
like their father and mother respectively.
It was not until the following day, when the sisters were alone
together, that any words passed between them concerning Colonel
Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth showed Georgiana a few brief lines she had
received from him, stating little more than the bare facts of his
departure and its cause. "She is engaged, and it is all over for me now.
At all events, I know the worst," he wrote. "Do not be too compassionate
for me, Elizabeth. I have been a fool, to think that anything so bright
and lovely should become mine. Yet I did not think she would bestow
herself where she has. I was a laggard, I suppose, and I threw my chance
away in Bath; and how could she wait until I had reinstated myself? No,
my dream is over. You will hear of her engagement, no doubt, and I beg
you to tell her that I join with you in wishes for her happiness. I
shall be with you at Pemberley before long. Georgiana is an angel. I did
not deserve from her one quarter of the kindness she showed me."
In a postscript he added: "Will Darcy trust me to choose him a horse? I
have seen a beautiful pair of bays, that would suit your large carriage,
besides a perfect chestnut hunter."
Georgiana sighed and smiled over the letter, and Elizabeth said: "Yes,
he evidently does not wish us to think he is overwhelmed by it, though
from what he does _not_ say I can realize the depth of his feeling. It
is incredible; for, of course, it must be Sir Walter Elliot."
Sir Walter's was only a name to Georgiana, a vague recollection from the
last year at Bath, and she replied that she had heard of the engagement
from another source, without particulars. Elizabeth gave a vigorous
description of him and ended by saying that she should wait and see if
the necessity for writing to Miss Crawford arose, for she did not feel
much disposed to congratulate her.
Kitty's affairs were, of course, passed under review, and Elizabeth was
somewhat surprised to find that Georgiana was a staunch upholder of the
notion that William Price was likely to make her an offer, as she had
fancied that the accounts might have been exaggerated, and that
Georgiana would be the one to take a sober and dispassionate view. But
her asseverations of her belief that Mr. Price's truth and steadiness,
and in Kitty's being unlikely to have deceived herself in this case,
went farther to convince Elizabeth than anything she had heard before.
The next few weeks passed in tranquil enjoyment for all the persons in
the Pemberley circle, in which must be comprised the party from
Desborough, as no plan of any importance could be carried through
without the joining of forces, and the inclusion of Mr. Morland on the
one side and the Ferrars from Pemberley Rectory on the other. The
Bingleys, with the two young people, frequently drove over to spend a
day or two days, and when Mr. Bennet removed to Desborough towards the
end of August, it was not felt to be so much of a break-up as a changing
of the scene of their activities. Boating expeditions, rides over the
moors, blackberry gatherings, or evenings spent quietly at home in games
or music, something could always be found to suit the tastes of a party
of people who were bent on finding pleasure in each other's company;
even Kitty felt that only one thing was wanting to fill her cup of
happiness to the brim, for her father had sanctioned her staying on
until November, the month, she hoped, which would see its overflow.
For one person, however, this peaceful time was about to end in pain and
disappointment. Mrs. Bingley and her sister were sitting indoors
together one morning in the middle of September, when Mr. Morland was
observed approaching the house. He was such a frequent caller that it
had become a habit with him to walk straight in, and the ladies, after
waiting for some time, wondered at his non-appearance, and still more at
the intelligence brought by a servant, in answer to Jane's summons, that
Mr. Morland had asked only for Mr. Bennet, and had been shown into the
library.
"What can he want with my father?" said Jane, a suspicion of the truth
shooting across her mind and checking her utterance, as she glanced
anxiously at her sister; but no such idea seemed to have occurred to
Kitty, who innocently conjectured their interview to be a literary
conference, or a discussion that had arisen out of Mr. Morland's
sermon-making.
Mr. Bennet, on perceiving his visitor, might have anticipated something
of the kind, but Mr. Morland's first words corrected him. The young
man's errand was indeed nothing more or less than to make a formal
proposal for the hand of Mr. Bennet's daughter and to request permission
to address her. He was nervous, as men in his situation are apt to be,
but genuine feeling and sound sense enabled him to state his case well,
if not very fluently, as he represented the strength of his attachment
and described his worldly position and prospects.
Mr. Bennet had long ceased to be surprised at receiving applications of
the kind, however unexpected they might be, and certainly this one found
him quite unprepared. What little thought he had given to the subject
had certainly not led him to the supposition of Mr. Morland's becoming
his son-in-law, and he endeavoured to make his answer a discouraging
one.
"My daughter will be much honoured by your high opinion of her, Mr.
Morland, and I have no reason to think ill of your pretensions; but I
must admit that I have not remarked on her part any strong prepossession
in your favour."
"It is one of the things I have found most charming in Miss Bennet's
character, sir," replied Morland, "that she would not easily give her
heart away, or readily suppose a man to be enslaved by her. No one else
could have failed to perceive the depth of my admiration, but she has
seemed quite unconscious of it, though at the same time I am fully aware
that there is no brilliancy or distinction about me, nothing to attract
anyone who herself possesses a full measure of those qualities."
He looked so downcast that Mr. Bennet remarked: "If that were the
question, Mr. Morland, you might set your mind at rest, for my daughter,
though a very good girl, is not brilliant, nor would she be comfortable
with a husband of that description."
This observation inspired Mr. Morland to a fairly long speech, in which
he extolled Kitty's amiable qualities and dwelt on his own demerits, but
notwithstanding the contrast thereby presented, he was able to deduce a
number of excellent reasons for his being allowed to propose to Miss
Bennet without delay. Mr. Bennet heard him in silence, and at the end
replied that, though flattered by Mr. Morland's first referring to him,
who was merely the father of the young lady, he could not answer for his
daughter's sentiments; he had found that in these matters his girls had
always made up their own minds, and no doubt would continue to do so.
"Indeed, yes, it is with Miss Bennet that I must plead my own cause; but
you will not refuse me your sanction?" said the young man, eagerly. "You
think so far favourably of my suit that you will place no bar in the way
of my--I trust I may in time say _our_ perfect happiness?"
"No, Mr. Morland, the way to your perfect happiness is open as far as I
am concerned," replied Mr. Bennet, taking up a book.
Morland's satisfaction at having the father even passively on his side
was very great, and he spoke his gratitude very warmly, mingling with it
such praises of Kitty, and such rosy prognostications of the future, as
caused Mr. Bennet to reply, in characteristic fashion: "Let me know when
the time comes to wish you joy, Mr. Morland, and I will do it, but life
is so uncertain that I think for the present I had better refrain. Have
you ascertained whether Kitty can cook, make her own gowns, and trim
hats? I understand it is a great promoter of married happiness when the
wife can do so, and I am not sure whether all my girls have turned their
education to such good account."
Mr. Morland only replied by asking if he might be allowed to see Miss
Bennet at once, and her father left the room, foreseeing that, whatever
happened, he should not have one more quiet hour during that day. His
anticipations were soon in the way to be fulfilled, for on finding his
daughters, and sending Kitty to the library, he had to give Jane an
outline of what had just passed, then repeat it to Bingley, who joined
them, and listened to their exclamations of surprise, and regret at the
probable downfall of Mr. Morland's hopes. Jane and Bingley were both too
convinced of Kitty's prior attachment to have the slightest expectation
of his success, and Mr. Bennet was put in full possession of the facts
relating to it, while they anxiously awaited the termination of the
interview.
It came, after some minutes, in a glimpse of Kitty emerging from the
library and hurrying upstairs with streaming eyes, and while they all
debated as to their next move, Mr. Morland was seen to cross the hall
rapidly, looking nowhere but in front of him, and leave the house with
precipitation. Jane herself, almost equally distressed, longed to go to
Kitty, and Bingley questioned whether he ought not to hasten after the
young man, while Mr. Bennet was disposed to think they would be better
left to themselves for a time, and wished heartily that there were only
just enough lovers in the world to go round, one to each young lady, and
none over.
In spite of this, Jane was not long in finding her way to her agitated
sister and in showing her the tenderest consideration. Kitty's distress
was very great, and also very sincere, for she had in truth been far
from guessing that Mr. Morland took a more than common interest in her,
and as is usual in such cases, the declaration of the young man's love
woke in her feelings which she had not known to exist, of reciprocal
kindness and even affection, which only did not share the nature and
strength of his. Kitty could never have been hard-hearted to any lover,
least of all to one whom she liked as much as she did James Morland, and
his devotion touched her as deeply as the knowledge that she could not
accept it wounded her. Between regrets for what had happened, pity for
him and for herself, and the excited thoughts of William Price which the
incident itself was bound to evoke, she was in a sad state, and Jane
easily prevailed upon her to have her dinner upstairs and go early to
bed. Not so easily could she check the tears which flowed continuously,
and Jane, to occupy her mind and body, proposed that she should go
to-morrow to Pemberley, instead of in three days' time, as arranged;
she could very well be sent over, and the change would be beneficial;
besides, she was not really leaving them, for there was the November
visit to look forward to. Kitty caught at the suggestion, and declining
the offices of the maid, began to busy herself about her packing, as
Jane hoped she would do, while the latter descended to consult with her
husband and father.
Mr. Bennet and Bingley both approved, and Jane hastily wrote a few lines
to Elizabeth to apprise her of what had happened, that she might be
prepared for Kitty's arrival. The two gentlemen walked to the nearest
post town to convey the letter; and after dinner the indefatigable
Bingley again set out, this time to the Rectory, to perform the same
kind office by James Morland as his wife had been doing by Kitty. The
young man, though calmer, proved far more unreceptive of consolation. He
had felt his rebuff acutely, for Kitty had been too much taken by
surprise, too sure of herself, to make it otherwise than decisive, and
even the modest hopes he had ventured to entertain, of being able to
make more progress with her once the subject was opened between them,
had been most thoroughly dispelled. Miss Bennet would not hear another
word of it--begged him never to speak of it again--with tears reproached
him for having spoilt everything, so that in addition to his own
disappointment he had the pain of feeling that she thought less well of
him than before. Bingley could deny this, but could not affirm anything
else likely to give him comfort. It remained for Morland himself to
declare, which he did in a firm though melancholy tone, that he
regretted having distressed Miss Bennet, and would endeavour so to meet
her in the future that she would not suffer through being reminded of
it by any act of word of his. Bingley commended his courage, told him of
Kitty's departure, and begged him to continue coming to Desborough just
the same; and walked home with a full report of what had just passed.
Jane shook her head over it, for, while sympathizing with both, she was
more truly sorry for Mr. Morland, since for him she could see no
immediate prospect of compensation, in spite of her father's assurances
that a young clergyman was seldom allowed to remain inconsolable for
more than six months, and if Kitty's other young man only did what was
expected of him, her fate would be a certainty in half that time.