To Elizabeth and Georgiana, the events of the evening seemed like a
dreadful dream. Less than an hour ago they had been sitting at their
occupations, as tranquil and secure as if disaster did not exist; and
now the bolt had fallen, scattering them and bringing to each its
message of terror and dismay. Georgiana felt as if it would be the
hardest matter in the world to settle to any pretence of the ordinary
life again, until news reached them from her brother; she longed to be
able to be alone, to think it all over quietly, or to go to Elizabeth,
to hear the result of her appeal to Miss Crawford, and instead she was
obliged to establish herself in the drawing-room with Mr. Bertram, who
showed no sign of wishing to go to bed, but was evidently prepared to
sit up talking and drinking tea until midnight.
Georgiana took out her embroidery frame, and prepared to be as agreeable
a listener as she could, for she expected Elizabeth, who had gone to
Miss Crawford, would come back at any minute, and she really felt more
than a common measure of gratitude to Mr. Bertram for the service he
had rendered them. This gratitude she again endeavoured to express, when
Mr. Bertram began discussing the heavy state of the roads, and the
consequent delays to which Darcy might be subjected.
"Pray do not name it, Miss Darcy; as I said, I am only too glad to have
been of the slightest assistance. It was a mere chance that I was there,
for I should have returned home this week, but the open weather tempted
me to stay on for a day or two longer."
"It was indeed fortunate for us, for we should have had no information
until to-morrow, if we had had to wait for a letter."
Tom Bertram repeated that he "was very glad," looking into the fire in
an absent-minded way that Georgiana scarcely noticed, so absorbed was
she in her thoughts. She paid but little more attention when he suddenly
rose, stationed himself with his back to the fire, and a little nearer
her, and began to speak, apparently on the same topic, for in the first
few minutes she could only gather an impression of his sharing in the
events following the accident; his telling Mr. Ashley that he was a
friend of Colonel Fitzwilliam's, and knew all his relatives, and would
be the fittest person to bear the news to them; of Mr. Ashley's heartily
agreeing, and of his haste to get home and order his carriage and start.
The narrative went on, Georgiana hearing very little after
Leicestershire was left behind, for her thoughts had lingered with the
poor sufferer there, when, with a start, she became aware that all this
was directed at _her_, that Mr. Bertram was trying to explain that he
had welcomed the opportunity of hurrying to Pemberley, because it would
doing her and her family a service, than which he could have no greater
satisfaction, and because it would afford him the privilege of being in
her presence once more. Georgiana, amazed and horrified, endeavoured to
stop him; but Tom was not to be prevented from making a speech which he
had been rehearsing for at least four hours on his journey. Some words
which fell from her lips, an appeal to have some respect for this sad
occasion, which she had snatched at as the argument most likely to move
him, were of no avail. That he could address her at such a time he
immediately pointed out to be a proof of his ardour, which merited
pardon by reason of its unquenchable nature, for he had intended, he
explained, to wait until he came to Desborough at the end of the month,
and then to have sought an interview, but his impatience to throw
himself at her feet and declare his passion would brook no delay.
Nothing could have been more distasteful to Georgiana than such
sentiments. To hear the words "admiration" and "devotion" uttered by Mr.
Bertram was not only an outrage upon the present hour, occupied as it
was with the gravest solicitude for the life of a friend, but also upon
the past, when similar words had been spoken to her by William Price.
From no one else could she bear to hear them; coming from his cousin,
she could almost have called them an insult. Of course, he could not
know that, but it almost seemed like trading upon having placed them
under an obligation to him, that he should presume to speak in a manner
so repugnant to her. Too vexed to choose her words, when Mr. Bertram
stopped for breath, having brought his peroration to a close by an offer
in correct form of his hand and heart, she replied coldly that she was
much honoured by his proposals, but it was entirely out of her power to
accept them. Bertram had not expected a favourable reply on the instant,
but he had hardly expected so decisive an unfavorable one. He stepped
forward with outstretched hands, and an eager, "But, Miss Darcy--" to
which her only response was to move haughtily away, and at that moment,
to the relief of the lady and the chagrin of the gentleman, Elizabeth
entered the room. Only the good manners habitual to both could have
helped them to carry off the situation. Tom Bertram, checked in one of
his flights of eloquence, descended to earth again with an observation
on the weather, and for the next few minutes the temperature and the
prospects of rain were debated with great earnestness.
Elizabeth could hardly have failed to guess what kind of interview she
had interrupted, and out of compassion to Georgiana she soon recommended
her to go to bed. The young girl needed no second bidding; Bertram
opened the door to her with great ceremony, which was acknowledged by
the slightest of bows, and she gladly sought the shelter of her room,
astonished to find that it was not more than half-past nine o'clock.
Could it be possible that it was barely two hours since Mr. Bertram's
arrival? Would this interminable evening, with its shocks, surprises and
disturbances, and yet more surprises, ever draw to a close? Georgiana
was so unnerved that she sat down and shed a few tears, but a few only,
for with such a real grief ever present, she could not spare much
consideration for Mr. Bertram's unwelcome attack. It had been
bewildering and annoying, but she was not going to worry about it. He
had acted on some silly impulse, and could not possibly be serious. He
scarcely knew her--a week's acquaintance, and he talked of heartfelt
devotion, and expected her to be ready to listen to such nonsense! She
could not conceive what had actuated him, and resented greatly that
merely because he was heir to a title and fortune, and had ridden
forty-five miles in a great hurry, he should suppose himself to be an
acceptable suitor. Some expressions he had used, showing that he was
confident of having the approval of her family, roused her special
indignation. If only she had not so unluckily been alone with him--if
Mrs. Grant had not gone upstairs!
Mrs. Grant! Georgiana started violently, for until that moment she had
completely forgotten the association of Mr. Bertram with their two
guests. She had supposed Mary's agitation to be caused merely by the
news of Colonel Fitzwilliam, and now perceived that the sight of the
messenger must have been painful enough apart from all else. What
miserable complications had resulted from the fact that it should have
been Tom Bertram, of all their acquaintance, who had happened to be
hunting with the Belvoir hounds that day! But she could not wish his
deed of kindness undone, nor she believed could Miss Crawford, or anyone
else, whatever the present inconvenience to themselves, for everything
was unimportant compared with what his coming had effected; and now, it
would not matter if only he would go away again immediately. Georgiana
sat meditating schemes by which she, Mary and Mrs. Grant might all avoid
seeing him again, when a knock at her door was followed by the entrance
of Elizabeth.
"Yes, Georgiana," Elizabeth said, smiling in response to the girl's shy
glance, "Mr. Bertram has made me his confidante. I am sorry if you were
upset, my dear; he seems to be afraid it was something of a surprise to
you, but he hopes you will take time, and do him the honour of thinking
it over."
"Oh, no, no, Elizabeth," Georgiana burst out, her cheeks crimsoning, "I
do not want time--I shall not think it over. I do not care for Mr.
Bertram in the least, and I never shall. Please tell him to go away and
forget all about it."
"Why, my dear, this is very determined. He began in the wrong way, I
think, and certainly at the wrong time, but he is very anxious to be
allowed to come back, and set about his wooing more gradually. I told
him I thought you were quite unaware of his feelings."
"So I was, but I do not want to hear about them," said Georgiana, more
quietly, for she was beginning to be a little ashamed of her anger. "I
am very much obliged to Mr. Bertram--I know it is very kind of him, and
everything, but I cannot possibly marry him."
"Are you sure it is entirely out of the question?" asked Elizabeth. "You
were a little startled, perhaps. It is true, we have not seen much of
him, but he is very agreeable, and his position is unexceptionable.
Above all, he bears a high character as far as we know, and has a good
heart, as his action of to-day proves. His cousin, Mr. Price, spoke very
warmly of him. Unless you are quite certain, I think your brother would
like you to give the matter due consideration, as at any other time than
this you might feel more in a mood for such subjects."
"Pray, pray, Elizabeth," exclaimed Georgiana, nervously, "do not ask me.
Even if we were not in trouble to-day, as we are, it would make no
difference. I am sure Mr. Bertram is excellent and amiable, but I do
not--I cannot--I hope Fitzwilliam will not be angry, but I dislike the
idea so very much."
"If that is so, my dear Georgiana, you shall not be tormented about it
any more. I do not know if I am glad or sorry, it has all happened so
quickly, but it is right that you should judge for yourself. Mr. Bertram
will be greatly disappointed, still, that cannot be helped. I suppose I
am to be deputed to get rid of the poor man."
"If you would be so very kind, Elizabeth."
"Well, I must break it to him early to-morrow morning, since I really
think we have had agitations enough for one evening. In any case, I
should have had to ask him to cut his visit short, for from what I have
heard, I do not think that Miss Crawford would care to see him again."
"No, no, indeed, that must be prevented if possible. And now, do tell
me, for I have been longing for an opportunity to ask you, what was the
result of your conversation, if I may be allowed to hear it?"
Elizabeth related briefly what had passed between them, and told how her
husband could scarcely believe at first that Miss Crawford had yielded,
and had voluntarily sent the message that he was asked to deliver, but
on being convinced of her sincerity, he willingly promised that if his
cousin's state permitted it, he would convey to him the words of hope
and comfort, and would endeavour to make anything clear that Fitzwilliam
might not be able to understand.
"Of course, we had so few minutes together," said Elizabeth, "and your
brother had not thought of it all for so long. He quite believed that
all was over between them; he did not even know that she had owned to
caring for him once. It was difficult for him to realize that she always
had cared, though he did not need me to tell him what happiness it would
be to poor Robert to know it, if he reached him in time."
"I am so glad, so very glad," cried Georgiana, the tears of joy standing
in her eyes. "It is as it should be. My brother will see it all
plainly, when he thinks it over. Poor Miss Crawford! How she must have
suffered! She did not realize it herself, I suppose, and that was why
she would not meet him again. I do not quite understand how it all
happened, but it does not signify now. If he lives, nothing need keep
them apart, and at all events, he will have her message. Nothing will
make me believe that it is too late for that."
This naturally led them back to a discussion of the accident, the
condition of the victim, and all the chances and possibilities of the
case, which could not be gone over often enough. Elizabeth at last
prepared to leave the room, as the hour was late, but struck by a
passing recollection, she looked back from the door to say, with a
smile: "I must tell you, Georgiana, that _your_ attitude has surprised
me more than Mr. Bertram's. Lately, when you have been looking so pale
and unlike yourself, it has occurred to me that there must be some
person of whom you were thinking a great deal, with a disturbing effect;
and I confess that when I interrupted you and Mr. Bertram this evening,
it crossed my mind that he might be that person."
"Elizabeth! how could you think such a thing?" exclaimed Georgiana,
turning away, blushing and confused, and thankful that Elizabeth had not
directly asked her whether any such person was in existence.