The disconsolate Mr. Bertram duly took his leave the following morning,
having seen no one besides Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Grant, but a brief
interview with the former had convinced him of the futility of any
second application to her sister-in-law. He was quite unable to account
for his rebuff, and his vexation, combined with the awkwardness that he
felt in Mrs. Grant's presence, made their party round the
breakfast-table an exceedingly uncomfortable one. Tom Bertram was
possessed of a great deal more conscience than Mr. Yates, and could
never have used Miss Crawford's name as freely as that gentleman had
done; moreover, he was quite conscious that his own family deserved a
share of the blame for the _esclandre_, which was usually borne by the
two chief culprits; consequently a meeting with any of the Crawfords was
quite as unwelcome to him as to them, and he was greatly relieved when,
after an exchange of formal civilities, he could betake himself to his
carriage and give directions to be conveyed to Desborough Park. To be
sure, he was antedating his visit there by ten or twelve days; but he
knew that he would be welcomed by the hospitable Bingleys, and they
would all be eager to hear the shocking news.
The ladies at Pemberley passed the next few hours in the deepest anxiety
and suspense. They tried to talk of other things, but they could think
of little but the one subject. Georgiana would have forgotten Mr.
Bertram as soon as he was out of the house, for she could not believe
his regard for her to be very genuine, or his wound very deep, but that
she so dreaded the disapprobation of her brother, when he should come to
hear of what had happened. Even Elizabeth would not have been surprised
if she had wished to accept him! It was mortifying in a way, though a
relief in another, that no one ever supposed it was possible that Mr.
Price could have cared for _her_!
Darcy had promised to send off an express letter as early as he could,
and a servant had gone to the neighbouring town to meet it, and so avoid
delay. Dinner was just over, a meal which they could only make a
pretence of eating, when the butler entered, and they saw that he had
brought the longed-for dispatch. It was taken to Mrs. Darcy, and she
lost not a moment in communicating its contents. The news was not what
they had dreaded; indeed, the account was as good as could be expected;
Darcy found his cousin's condition to be grave, but not hopeless, for
Colonel Fitzwilliam had recovered consciousness before his arrival. He
was not permitted to talk, but was able to understand what was said to
him. The surgeon had enjoined perfect quiet, and though at present he
could scarcely diagnose all the injuries, he believed that the head had
escaped. The danger was not over, but the patient's good constitution
would help him materially, and the fact that he was enduring severe
pain was not considered to be an altogether unfavorable symptom.
The report was, in general, an intense relief, though anxiety still
prevailed, and deep compassion and concern must still possess those who
listened. Still it was much to be thankful for; on reflection, it seemed
to be the best they could have hoped. Georgiana remained with Mrs.
Grant, talking it over, while Elizabeth drew Miss Crawford into her
boudoir, and said: "I know you will like to hear the rest of my
husband's letter. It is meant for you only. He writes: 'As soon as I was
allowed to speak to Fitzwilliam, and had ascertained that he was
comfortable as he could be made, I told him what you desired me to say
respecting Miss Crawford's presence in our house, and the confidence she
made to you. It seemed to be a great surprise to him, and I feared would
excite him too much; but when I repeated her message, in the exact words
which you gave me, I could perceive an immediate effect on him for good.
He seemed slow to believe it, and murmured a few syllables about its
being too great a happiness; but, after about half an hour, he signed
that he wished to speak to me again, and whispered: "Send her my love:
tell her that she has given me something to live for." He was not able
to say more and soon after fell asleep; you must recollect that there is
a great deal of fever, and consequent weakness. Still, he is decidedly
not worse, and I am more than half inclined to think that the stimulus
his mind has received may help towards his recovery. You know I am not
given to conjecture, but he is surprisingly ready to do everything he is
told, and anxious to think himself better. If I am right, the
responsibility will be Miss Crawford's, and it is one which I think she
will not be unwilling to bear. Pray give her my warmest regards, and
tell her I hope the time is not far distant when we shall be happily
reunited at Pemberley.'"
Such a letter could not all at once be realized, or recovered from. Mary
Crawford tried to utter some words of thanks, but tears impeded her
speech. Only when the joy burst upon her was she fully conscious of all
the misery of the last few months; the light served to make the darkness
more visible. Looking back upon the mists of pride, of resentfulness,
and misunderstanding, from which she had emerged, it seemed almost
incredible for a time that she had reached the clearer air, the sunshine
of love and mutual comprehension. She longed to turn to her kind friend,
to talk freely with her, over all that had seemed puzzling, and when,
after a very few anxious days, better accounts from Leicestershire began
to come in, and the gloom lifted, they could venture to let their minds
dwell on hopeful possibilities once more. It was satisfactory that the
whole situation was already known to the other members of their little
party, and that Georgiana, as well as Mrs. Grant, could freely offer the
affection and sympathy of a sister.
"Mrs. Darcy," said Mary one day, "I am possessed with a curiosity to
know which you think worst of me for--my keeping Colonel Fitzwilliam at
arm's length while in London, or my confession of weakness the other
day, after the bold assertions I made when you spoke to me during our
walk?"
"Indeed, I do not think ill of you for any of those things," returned
Elizabeth; "they seem to me to have been most natural; but what do I
think was a little bit foolish, was your allowing Sir Walter Elliot to
be so attentive that the world concluded you were engaged. Your friends
ought to have warned you that it might deter persons you really esteemed
from approaching you."
"I was afraid you were going to say something about that!" exclaimed
Miss Crawford, holding her hands to her ears in mock dismay. "I quite
expect that Colonel Fitzwilliam and I shall spend some hours in violent
mutual recrimination when he arrives, and that will be one of our
subjects. But, seriously, Mrs. Darcy, although I know now it was
unpardonably foolish, I was not conscious then of the comments that were
being made. Our friendship with the Elliots had quite another aspect for
me, other possibilities connected with my brother--but that will not
interest you. I tolerated Sir Walter Elliot, but I never liked him, and
I never thought of him as having any serious intentions, until a
good-natured friend, Mrs. Palmer, called to congratulate me on my
supposed engagement. By the way, she told me that her mother, Mrs.
Jennings, had meant to come by with her, but had been prevented; I did
not know the worthy Mrs. Jennings then, but since I have met her I have
felt thankful she was not present on that occasion; it would have been
rather overwhelming."
"She must have been sorry to miss such an opportunity," said Elizabeth,
with a smile.
"Yes, poor Mrs. Jennings! But congratulations on a thing that has _not_
happened are rather difficult to receive at any time, are they not? From
that moment, I do assure you, I got a horrid fright, and determined to
change my attitude towards Sir Walter Elliot completely. I must have
been partly successful, for it precipitated things to such an extent--at
all events, the result was not agreeable. It really was a wretched time!
and Colonel Fitzwilliam disappeared and no one knew where or why."
Elizabeth had long realized that her cousin had not been the only
sufferer in the past year, and she knew that Miss Crawford's lively
manner of talking was often assumed to hide deeper emotions. She truly
rejoiced that whatever fears and anxieties might have to be endured
before the lovers met again, nothing could shake the foundations of
their happiness.
After about ten days, Darcy's letters made it clear that the danger was
past, and steady, if slow, progress might be looked for. He was, of
course, quite unable to visit, and Georgiana, who had written to Mrs.
Wentworth to postpone her visit, consulted Elizabeth as to whether it
would be better to abandon it altogether, but Elizabeth thought that it
would be unnecessary to do so, and also a pity, for Georgiana's sake,
and Darcy, on being applied to give his consent to her journeying to
London with the escort of two servants, as had been originally proposed.
The plan, therefore, was to stand. A date was arranged with Captain
Wentworth, and on a cold windy evening of the second week in February,
Mr. Darcy's carriage with Mr. Darcy's sister, drove up to the hotel in
St. James's Street where her host was to meet her. The said carriage was
to return through Leicestershire, for it was hoped, that, in the course
of the next few days, Colonel Fitzwilliam might be well enough to be
brought back in it to Pemberley.
The inclement weather, solitude, and fatigue had sent Georgiana's
spirits down to a low ebb as she looked out at the wet streets, and
recalled her last visit to London, under such very different
circumstances. It was impossible for her not to be thinking of William
Price, and the occasion when they had been together there, and wondering
if he was in town at that minute. She would have liked to know that he
was, even though it was so utterly improbable that they should meet,
since neither of them could know what the other's movements were. Such
thoughts were bad companions for Georgiana, but the arrival of Captain
Wentworth, kind and cheerful as ever, and with the heartiest of
welcomes, did much to disperse the gloom, and he proved such an
enlivening companion on the following day that when they reached
Winchester in time for a late dinner, she did not feel as bad as if she
had been travelling for so many hours.
To see Mrs. Wentworth again was a keen pleasure. The letters they had
exchanged formed the groundwork of a more intimate friendship, for
despite Anne's seniority in years, their natures were thoroughly
congenial, and within a few hours Georgiana felt completely at home in
the charming little house not far from the Cathedral, which Captain
Wentworth had purchased soon after his marriage.
She and her hostess were sitting together, the first day of her visit,
exchanging inquiries after their mutual friends, and Georgiana was half
hoping to hear some mention of William Price's name, as from what she
had seen at Mrs. Hurst's dinner-party, she judged that the Wentworths
knew him tolerably well. Yes--Mrs. Wentworth referred to that
evening--said that she had seen Mrs. Hurst when last she was in
town--Miss Darcy had heard more lately, probably--did she remember the
young officer, Captain Price now, who had been present on that occasion?
Georgiana could reply in quite her ordinary manner that she had
frequently seen Mr. Price since, and told of his visits to Desborough
and Pemberley.
Mrs. Wentworth listened with interest. "I am very glad you have seen
something in him, for I am sure you must all have liked him, do you
not?" she said. "But, now, what an odd creature he is, never to have
mentioned it. To be sure, I have not seen him since, or he would
probably have done so, but hearing from a friend that he was in England
again, and knowing you had met, I wrote to ask him to come and spend a
few days here during your visit. It was a great liberty, I know, dear
Miss Darcy, but he is a first favourite with Captain Wentworth and me,
and we thought it would have been pleasant for him to have come just
now; young people always amuse each other. He has so little time on
shore, and up to last week I believed he was still abroad."
Georgiana's heart beat as if it would suffocate her, but she managed to
return her friend's look, and say in a steady voice: "Yes, it would have
been very nice. Is Captain Price not able to come?"
"No, most unfortunately not. I am very sorry, more so than ever now I
know he has been to your part of the world. But he writes to say he
fears he ought not to come--all sorts of regrets, and to tell Miss Darcy
he is very sorry not to see her again. It is not at all clear why he
cannot come, for he only repeats that he is sailing again some time next
month, and thinks he had better stay in London, or go down to see his
sister, until he goes."
Georgiana sat perfectly silent, gazing into the fire. Even from Mrs.
Wentworth's first words she had not expected that William Price was
coming, but to feel that the opportunity had been within his reach, and
he could not--her heart told her that it was _would_ not--avail himself
of it, was very hard to bear. He was right not to come, if he believed
that the reason for his rejection still existed; Georgiana honoured him
for that; but was there anything else? Had he changed his mind? Was he
ceasing to care? Georgiana hardly knew, until that bitter moment, how
much she had been pinning her hopes upon seeing him again some day; and
she thought, with something like bitterness, that it had not been much
use to picture him in London, and consequently somewhat nearer to her,
when, as things stood, he was immeasurably far away, whether in London
or in Derbyshire or on the North Sea.
Her want of response passed unnoticed as Captain Wentworth entered the
room, proposing to take the ladies out. His wife observed that she had
been telling Miss Darcy of Captain Price's refusal of their invitation,
and of their puzzle to account for it.
"Yes, it is a very ungallant thing, is it not, Miss Darcy? particularly
when he has been told what an attraction we had for him. I thought he
would have come, as he is so often up and down this road, between
Southampton and London, but I suppose he has got some other irons in the
fire."
Georgiana was glad to be able to leave the room, passing off the subject
with a smile and a vague expression of regret, but the tumult of her
mind was so painfully great that it was some days before she could find
anything like the quiet enjoyment in her surroundings which she had
promised herself. All those feelings which she had striven to repress
were rising up again with renewed force. She struggled with herself
alone, for she could not bear to tell Mrs. Wentworth the whole story; it
was different for Miss Crawford with Elizabeth, but in this case the
best-intentioned friend could not disentangle the skein.
Not long after her arrival she had the delight of hearing from Elizabeth
that the engagement of Fitzwilliam and Mary was an accomplished fact. He
was at home again, none the worse for the journey, and gaining strength
rapidly under so many efficient nurses, "which of course means _one!_"
wrote Elizabeth. Her pleasure was enhanced, a few days later, by
receiving a letter from her cousin himself, the first he had been
allowed to write, in which he spoke with gratitude of the happiness he
had so nearly missed, and thanked Georgiana affectionately for her share
in bringing it about. "Indeed," he said, "we owe to the kindness and
patience of our friends a debt we can never repay. How cantankerous and
troublesome you must have thought me when we were in London! and yet you
bore with me, then and always, with unfailing sweetness. I can wish you
nothing better, my dearest cousin, than to be as happy as I am, though I
do not know who is fit, by fortune and merit, to deserve you."
Mary wrote in much the same strain, and Georgiana could read their
letters without a pang of selfish envy, with no feeling but that of
rejoicing on her friends' behalf. This was heartily shared in by Mrs.
Wentworth, who proved the most sympathetic of listeners, having seen the
early stages of the affair at Bath, and knowing, from her own
observation and by what she had collected from Mrs. Darcy's letter, more
than Georgiana of the obstacles which had hindered its progress up to
now; but both preferred to talk only of its happy conclusion, and of the
strange and unexpected means by which it had been brought about.