The well-informed reader, aware that “The course of true love never did run smooth,” will not be surprised to perceive, from the thickness of the pages remaining, that Anne and Edmund did experience some further difficulties.
However, the initial few days of their engagement gave no hint of troubles to come. Then, one morning, several carriages drew up to the front of Pemberley.
“Oh,” cried Anne. “It is my dear Mr Bennet!”
Indeed it was, and with him, a handsome, rather over-dressed lady, with a slightly peevish expression, whom he introduced as his wife. Two young women, one pretty, one quiet and rather plain, were: “My daughters, Mary and Kitty.” From the second chaise there emerged a very sweet-faced young woman, bearing a strong resemblance to Elizabeth, and a good-looking young man, whom Darcy shook enthusiastically by the hand: “My friend Bingley.” But there was another lady, and Anne thought that Mrs Darcy's face fell slightly when she saw her, for this lady, though younger by far than Mrs Bennet, appeared equally peevish, if not more so. Could this be another sister? the extraneous vehicles contained such a supply of nursemaids, valises, and trunks, as may well be imagined, and Mrs Bingley, hastening urgently to one of them, demanded and received a small baby into her arms. It transpired that the unknown lady was not Mrs Darcy's, but Mr Bingley's sister, who had been quite unable to travel in the same carriage as the infant, owing to her extreme dislike of hearing a child crying.
The new house was ready, Mr Bingley explained, and they were on their way to it. “But you must have received my letter? I wrote to you, I did indeed, a week ago, that we had heard from the builders—the roof and chimneys are repaired, the house is habitable, and as for the new greenhouse, and the pinery, all that, you know, can be seen to far better when we are in residence. I wrote to you, at least a week ago,” but no letter had been received at Pemberley.
Not knowing that her family were coming, Mrs Darcy had invited the Rackhams, mother and children, and Sir Matthew and his mother to dinner. “And to keep the numbers even,” she said, “I asked Mr Kirkman, too, for now that I am not matchmaking any more, I find that I quite like him.”
“Well,” said her husband, “maybe we can find a use for him, for we must persuade someone to like Miss Bingley. He is a little older than she, but they might deal very well together.”
“How comes it,” Elizabeth asked, “that she is here? For I know she does not like me, and I am sure she has not forgiven you, for having the bad taste to marry me.”
“It seems that Mr Hurst has a sister who must be invited, with her husband, once in a while, and they asked poor Miss Bingley to vacate the spare bedroom for a few weeks, so the Bingleys had to bring her; and unless we can persuade Mr Kirkman to take a fancy to her, I do not know what we shall do. But you need not be concerned, my dear, for I am quite certain that Mrs Reynolds already knows how many people are arrived, and is making arrangements accordingly, and Forrest, too.”
“I am quite sure that they have, but I must go, all the same, and assure them both that I am perfectly astonished with all that they have done, and do not know what we should have done without them,” and Elizabeth, excusing herself to her guests, hastened away.
By dinner time, a mystery had been unraveled. Mr Bingley, on examining his travelling-desk, had found the letter, addressed and folded, that should have been sent to announce their incipient departure from Longbourn, and the probable day of their arrival at Pemberley. He recalled having no sealing-wax, and laying it aside until he should ask his wife for some. “And then, oh yes, Bailey came about the horses, and I went out to the stable yard with him, and I must have forgot.” By this time, however, rooms had been found and prepared for everyone, and in spite of, or perhaps because of, Mrs Reynolds's perturbation, the dinner was all that a Pemberley dinner ought to be.
Afterward they danced. Owing to the shortage of gentlemen, each of the ladies was sometimes obliged to sit down, and after an energetic country dance, Anne was glad to do so. She overheard Mrs Bennet ask Mrs Darcy, “But why is Miss de Bourgh to marry that very odd man? He is not rich, he is not handsome, and you tell me she could have married a Lord.”
“Hush, madam, pray hush, she will hear you.”
“Oh! nonsense, no one can hear in such a crowd. Well, if such a man as that is to marry into your family, and to be invited here, I do not see why you, and your husband, had to be so very nice about inviting poor Lydia. After all, she is one of us; she is your sister still, and he is your brother, and his brother, too.”
“But, the circumstances…”
“Oh, pooh; nobody cares about that; dear Wickham should not have run off with her, but much may be excused to a man in love, and they are safe married now. Lydia is in poor health, for she is expecting an interesting event, as I told you, and their lodging is not commodious or comfortable. I do think it is hard that she is not to come, for a spell at Pemberley, with her sisters, would have raised her spirits, and improved her health. And dear Wickham talks a great deal about his childhood home, and I am sure he misses it very much. Why should you not all be reconciled, pray? If you and Mr Darcy are ashamed of her, you must be ashamed of us, too.”
This was perhaps the first time that Mrs Bennet and her daughter had had a serious conversation since Elizabeth's marriage. But Mrs Darcy was no longer the unmarried and not-much-loved daughter, who must treat a parent with respect and deference. She answered with the authority of a married woman, with a home, husband, and child of her own. “I am sorry, madam; but I cannot invite her. For one thing, I do not think she would do well at Pemberley, for you know how noisy and indiscreet she is. But even if I did wish to invite her, it cannot be. I could not ask her without asking her husband, and Mr Darcy will not permit it; he will not receive him.”
They moved away, leaving Anne puzzled and surprised. To refuse to invite a sister, who was not at all wealthy, and not well! It seemed so unlike the new, kind cousin whom she had begun to know! She turned and found Georgiana standing beside her. Mrs Bennet, who might, Anne thought, be becoming slightly deaf, had spoken pretty loudly, and she could see clearly, from Georgiana's expression, that she had heard, too.
“You think my brother unkind,” Georgiana said.
“I do not understand,” Anne said. “It is not like him, or Elizabeth. They are so generous, they have been so welcoming to me, though I am but a cousin and might be thought to have far less claim on their hospitality. It disturbs me that these people seem unwelcome here, because they are poor and of lower rank than I.”
Georgiana drew a deep breath. “I can explain,” she said, “and I will. I cannot bear it, that you should think my brother ungenerous. But I cannot tell you now. Come for a walk with me, come tomorrow morning; the men will all be out shooting—yes, Edmund too, for I heard him tell my brother that he should go—and we can be private.”