Colonel Fitzwilliam wrote that he intended staying in Leicestershire for
Christmas, and going to London for the first fortnight of January.
Elizabeth did not fail to make this information public, and accordingly,
when the question of their two guests' departure was again broached,
Miss Crawford was more easily persuaded to prolong their visit, and her
sister approved of whatever she chose to do. Elizabeth had not thought
it right to speak to Mrs. Grant about her conversation with Mary, but
that lady had opened the subject herself, by expressing to Mrs. Darcy
her great relief that the affair with Colonel Fitzwilliam had gone off,
and attributing Mary's illness to fretting and disappointment. Mrs.
Grant blamed no one except the Elliots, who, she asserted, had
persistently stood between Mary and her other friends, but she lamented
the whole series of mishaps, for it was evident that no one else had
ever gained such a large measure of her sister's regard, and now her
whole endeavour seemed to be to banish him from her thoughts.
Mary meantime was recovering health and vigour, and the colour came back
to her cheeks, and the light to her eyes in a manner very gratifying to
her friends to observe. Had Elizabeth not been so much occupied with
plans for her visitors, and preparations for Christmas, she could not
have failed to note the contrast between Miss Crawford and Georgiana,
for the younger girl grew paler and graver, and seemed more and more
spiritless in comparison with Mary's gay moods. Georgiana made great
efforts to throw herself into what was going on, and was persuaded that
she smiled and talked as much as ever, while she took part in the
hospitalities of Pemberley, but in reality the weight on her mind, her
preoccupation with the thought of two people who were suffering through
her fault, prevented her from always knowing when she was silent. She
constantly pictured Kitty, grieving in solitude over the downfall of the
hopes of many months, and wearied her mind with fruitless speculations
as to how they could have acted differently, in order to have averted
the blow. No one could possibly have foreseen that Mr. Price would care
for her and not for Kitty! else the latter's friends might have
persuaded her to try and like Mr. Morland, whose courtship had been
under equally auspicious circumstances. But then, Georgiana reflected
with a thrill, who could think of a Morland when they had been better
attracted by a Price! She was glad to be able to pay that tribute to her
friend's good taste. And if the affair had not been checked in its early
stages, it must have gone on in the way it had until the gentleman
spoke, and poor Kitty's fate was sealed.
Tears rose to Georgiana's eyes as she recalled her interview with
William Price, and the feeling of anger and despair that had come over
her at the prospect of everything being so utterly wrong, and then
thrown into such confusion. And since then, the indignation on Kitty's
behalf, which had overwhelmed her at first, had softened into pity, and
shared a place in her heart equally with regret for Mr. Price, for _his_
disappointment, as sudden and as complete as Kitty's, and far more
bewildering. He would never, perhaps, fully understand how it came
about, nor fully allow for its causes, and for the obstacle which had
necessitated his being refused. Chilled and repulsed, he would think her
insensible, unkind; he would believe that she did not care for him, and
did not want to care. What a wonder if his feelings towards her
underwent a change! What more probable than that now, when she had
learnt that his esteem was the only thing necessary to her happiness,
and earnestly wished he could know that she no longer blamed him, he had
resolved to think of her no more?
* * * * *
Owing to a slight indisposition of Mrs. Bingley's, the Desborough party
had not come over to Pemberley at Christmas, as was their custom, but
they arrived on New Year's Eve to spend two or three days. Georgiana
looked forward rather nervously to the meeting with Kitty, for the
latter had only written occasional notes to her and Elizabeth, in a
constrained style, since the departure in November, and Georgiana
dreaded equally any reopening of the subject in words, or any coldness
between them, combined with the unforgiving reproaches which Kitty knew
so well how to convey by look and manner. It seemed, however, when they
arrived, that Kitty was not going to adopt either attitude precisely.
She looked very thin, and Jane told her sister that she had not been
eating or sleeping well, but she chatted as vigorously as ever, and was
in restless, excitable spirits. She could not sit long to anything, and
when not flying about the house, or playing with the children, was
constantly running down to the Rectory, on the plea of wanting to see
Mrs. Ferrars's new baby, who had made its appearance in the world a few
days before. Georgiana found that any private talk was out of the
question, and did not seem to be desired by Kitty, whose principal topic
of conversation was, after the loveliness of the baby, the charms of her
newest friend, a certain Mrs. Henry Tilney, sister of Mr. Morland, who
had been staying with him for some weeks. This young lady was about
Kitty's age, but had been married for several years, and had brought one
of her children with her, a little girl about the age of the Bingleys'
second boy, and there had evidently been a great deal of intercourse
between the Park and the Rectory. Mrs. Tilney was reported by Jane and
her husband to be a very pleasing, gentle and amiable woman, and Kitty's
enthusiasm over her knew no bounds.
Elizabeth had met Mrs. Tilney, and was pleased to hear of her again, as
she would have been to hear of anyone connected with Mr. Morland and
Lady Portinscale; and the subject offered material for frequent
conversation among the whole party, as Mrs. Grant and Miss Crawford had
an interest in it also, through their acquaintanceship with the young
clergyman in Bath.
Georgiana could not help glancing at Kitty occasionally when his name
was mentioned, and noticed that the slight embarrassment Kitty displayed
at first soon wore off. There had evidently been a good many visitors at
Desborough during the past month; Bingley had had another shooting
party, and there had been evenings of music, and even a small dance at
the house of a neighbour. Kitty spoke of these things as if the
retrospect were one of great enjoyment, and Morland was so often
referred to, as to lead to the supposition that their constant meetings
were fraught with no discomfort on either side.
"But you have not told all our gaieties, Kitty," said Bingley, as they
stood round the drawing-room fire one morning after breakfast. "Did you
know, Elizabeth, that we went to see the amateur theatricals at
Ashbourne? The officers got them up among themselves and invited
everybody; it was quite a spectacle, and they gave us supper afterwards
in that fine great mess-room. I never saw anything better done."
"Yes, we had an invitation; I was sorry not to go to it, but it is too
far," said Elizabeth. "I heard the performance was very good."
"Of course, you would have been asked; you ought to have gone, for it
was well worth seeing; our little charades were quite put in the shade.
Kitty can give you all information about it, for she had a splendid
young officer sitting by her to tell her who everybody was."
"It was only Mr. Cathcart; he knew Colonel Forster once, and wanted to
hear about Lydia," said Kitty, colouring and becoming deeply interested
in the pattern of her lace handkerchief.
"And the one who escorted you to supper was not Mr. Cathcart; he was
somebody even more gorgeous and equally delightful--a field-marshal, at
least, I should think," continued her brother-in-law in bantering tones;
"altogether, Kitty did very well that evening. I expected Jane would
have had half the regiment coming up to her before it was over, to ask
leave to call."
"Nonsense, Bingley," said Kitty, in some confusion, getting up and going
to help Mary Crawford, who was sorting her music; "you are making too
much of it; there was no reason why Mr. Macdonald should not call, if he
wished to."
Bingley laughed, and proceeded to give so lively a description of the
theatricals, that Kitty could not help coming back and joining in, with
sparkling eyes and every sign of pleasure in the reminiscence. Georgiana
watched her in some surprise, for nothing could be more unlike the
broken-hearted Kitty who had gone away six weeks before. Bingley forbore
to tease her any longer; but finding himself alone with Elizabeth and
Georgiana later in the morning, he began at once: "I think neither of
you need be under any more apprehension about Kitty. She was certainly
very low-spirited when she came to us, and I was afraid that young
sailor's departure had had a devastating effect; but she has brightened
up wonderfully and managed to enjoy herself again, just as a girl
ought."
"I am very glad," said Elizabeth. "I knew she had taken it a good deal
to heart at the time, but fresh interests will put fresh life into her."
"Exactly; there is no use in a pretty young woman like that moping about
a fellow who does not care for her; the best way to forget him is to
amuse herself with others, and I feel myself partly responsible for
encouraging that young Price, so Jane and I have done our best to
distract her thoughts. Those officers are as pleasant a set of fellows
as ever stepped, and Kitty by no means disliked them; but unfortunately
the regiment is just moving on, and the next one does not come till
March. I have asked Bertram down again at the end of the month for some
hunting; Kitty and he seemed to get on well, and we thought him a
capital fellow, did you not?"
"Very agreeable indeed," said Elizabeth, in a tone of calmer praise,
adding: "and I have no doubt he is an excellent young man, though in
spite of all, I should be inclined to adhere to Kitty's first preference
to his cousin; Mr. Price's manners had more to recommend them, I
thought."
Georgiana's heart bounded, and she turned away her face to hide her
rising colour, as Bingley responded: "Ah, yes, Elizabeth, you are right.
In spite of all, as you say, Price is the man we should have liked for
her. There is a sterling character, I do believe. It would have done
most of us good to have to begin early, and make our own fortunes, as
that youth has done, and we should not be all so frank and modest at his
age, I'll wager. Yes, I should be only too glad to get him back, but it
is out of the question. I had a letter from him last week from
Copenhagen; they expect to be cruising about in the North Sea for
another month or two; then he will probably have to go to some distant
station."
Georgiana had turned now to look at Bingley, her complexion changing
from red to pale. She was grateful to Elizabeth for keeping the
conversation going by some slight remark, for she could not have spoken.
"Yes," continued Bingley, "we think it a great drawback to a sailor's
life, that he should have to be abroad so much, and away from his
friends; but cruises now are not as long as they used to be, and when a
man has as much spirit as Price, he is glad to be on the move, to show
authorities the stuff he is made of. Price is commander on his present
ship, you know; the first since his promotion."
The entrance of Jane caused Bingley to break off, and Georgiana waited a
little, in the hope that he had more to say on a subject of such an
absorbing nature; but, unfortunately, it was Mr. Bertram, not Mr. Price,
to whom he reverted, calling upon Jane to confirm his expectations of
the former's visit, and Georgiana slipped out of the room as Jane began
to tell Elizabeth how she had succeeded in obtaining Mr. Bennet's
permission to keep Kitty until Easter. Georgiana needed to think over
what she had heard, even though the pain to herself became more intense,
in proportion as she gloried in the approval expressed of William Price
by her friends. To hear him praised, to know him appreciated, was sweet
to her; but how bitter by contrast was the knowledge that she had
sacrificed his happiness and her own, in vain, that Kitty had so soon
forgotten him as to be able to flirt with officers, and was ready to
accept as a compensation for the loss of William Price, the attentions
of any young men Bingley could collect around her! Georgiana could
scarcely believe that the devotion of half a year could have died a
natural death in so short a time. She might almost have thought that
Kitty was feigning indifference, in order to conceal her chagrin, but
from experience of Kitty's nature she knew that her friend was incapable
of acting a sustained part, and that if she appeared to enjoy balls and
flirtations, it was because they had for her as much zest as ever.
Georgiana might wonder, but she had no inclination to blame Kitty for
any sign of inconsistency. It was undoubtedly much better for Kitty to
get over her infatuation for William Price, if she could succeed in
doing so; but the consequences to Georgiana were far more grave, and she
suffered the more for realizing that Kitty had not, after all, so
greatly valued the thing she had sought after, the object which had
become more and more precious to Georgiana than anything in the world.
Her effort to defend Kitty to William, her refusal to accept his
devotion for herself--all had been wasted, fruitless, unnecessary! Not
that she would for one moment desire to withdraw the act of loyalty
towards her friend; but with heart-breaking regrets did she review the
whole sequence of events, which had so cruelly and inevitably separated
William Price and herself. Was it, she thought, a just punishment for
one who had made two such grievous mistakes previously that she should
now be accorded, too late, a glimpse of a happiness that would have
transformed her whole life? Bingley's casual mention of his movements
had reminded her forcibly how improbable it was that they should ever
meet again.
She had borne up bravely until then, but that night, when alone, she
could not help giving way to an access of grief severer than any she had
known before, and only a dread of arousing comment enabled her to assume
an air of tolerable serenity when she appeared in the morning.
It happened that Jane, while admiring a new dress which Georgiana was
wearing, was struck with the want of animation in the young girl's face,
and her usual kindness prompted her to inquire solicitously how she did.
Georgiana would confess to no ailment but a slight cold, which she had
had for a week and been unable to throw off, and tried to make light of
it when Jane appealed to Elizabeth to suggest what might be done to
re-establish her health. Elizabeth felt a real concern as she looked
closely at her young sister, and reproached herself for having neglected
to give her proper care.
"No, no, indeed, Elizabeth, it is not so," protested Georgiana. "I am
perfectly well. A cold always makes one feel stupid, and this mild damp
weather is disagreeable, coming after those early frosts."
"Come and stay with us for two or three weeks," said Jane
affectionately. "The change will do you good, and Bingley and I shall be
happy to have you; your last visit was an unreasonably short one."
Georgiana gratefully but decidedly declined the offer, pleading various
excuses, but privately feeling that she would rather not be with Kitty
again just yet, amid scenes connected inseparably with William Price's
presence.
"I think she ought to have a change, nevertheless," said Elizabeth, "and
it is too long to wait till we go to Bath in April. Would you not really
care to go to Desborough for a little, Georgiana, and see if it does you
good?"
Georgiana faltered out something of reluctance, and Jane, smiling kindly
at her, went away to leave the sisters to discuss it together. Elizabeth
drew the young girl to her, and tenderly asked if there was anything the
matter, in which her help or advice would be acceptable, and Georgiana,
after a few moments' silent struggle, recovered the self-command which
the proffer of sympathy had threatened to disturb, and replied that she
was sure she would be quite well directly, and would rather not go away
from home until she went with the others.
"You are sure there is nowhere you would like to go, if not Desborough?"
asked Elizabeth, pondering. "The Hursts would be delighted, I know, but
you have been there lately; what a pity Mrs. Annesley has gone abroad."
Georgiana only shook her head at these suggestions, and suddenly
Elizabeth exclaimed: "I have thought of something--Mrs. Wentworth's
invitation! You remember that she asked you, in the letter I had from
her with reference to her father and Miss Crawford. You thought at the
time that you might like to accept it some day."
The idea seemed to interest Georgiana more than the others. She raised
her head from Elizabeth's shoulder, and said: "I remember; it was a very
kind message. The Wentworths live at Winchester, do they not?"
"Yes, and Anne Wentworth is so good-hearted, so thoroughly sincere, that
I know she would like to be taken at her word, and to have you propose
yourself as a visitor. What do you think of it, Georgiana? I think you
might be very happy with such kind people, and the change of air and
surroundings would be complete. It seems a very long way off, I know,
but you could be taken to London in the carriage, with the two servants,
as last year; and Captain Wentworth would doubtless be able to meet you
there, for he makes that journey constantly. Your brother and I would
come and fetch you any time, after Miss Crawford goes, as soon as you
wish to come away."
Elizabeth rose and went to her writing-table, to find Mrs. Wentworth's
letter, and to show Georgiana the message once more. The cordiality
which it expressed could not be doubted, and Georgiana began to feel
that if she could ever find pleasure in anything again, it might be in
the quiet companionship of such friends as Captain and Mrs. Wentworth.
She had been greatly attracted by Mrs. Wentworth, and she had sufficient
good sense to know that it would be advantageous to her to have an
entire change of environment, to be away for a time from Pemberley, and
its associations. It would revive her courage, and help her to
appreciate the many blessings that life still held for her. Georgiana
was not too young not to believe that her troubles were past mending,
but she was also too reasonable deliberately to nurse her unhappiness.
She accordingly allowed Elizabeth to write and propose the scheme, and
had grown so much accustomed to the idea as to be pleased when an answer
arrived in the form of a joint letter from the Wentworths, warmly
welcoming her to join their house, with every intimation of the delight
it would afford them, and suggesting the last week in January as the
date for her journey to London, where her host would meet her, and
convey her straight to Winchester, a distance of sixty-five miles.
The arrangement was generally approved. Darcy and Elizabeth regretted
losing their sister, even for a time; but they hoped it would be
beneficial to her, and they could perceive that it fell in with her
inclinations. There was no lack of escort, for Mrs. Grant and Miss
Crawford, who were now talking of going in earnest, were anxious to
alter their plans and travel to Bath round by London, for the pleasure
of her company; but Darcy would not permit this, as he had resolved on
taking his sister himself, and Elizabeth induced them to remain with her
until his return.