Where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will always be under good regulation.
When Bingley arrived, he told Darcy that he had already sent word to open up Netherfield House ready to receive them, at least for the next few weeks, and servants were sent on ahead to prepare for the shooting party. By the Wednesday, the two friends were ready to leave town for the journey to Hertfordshire.
As they reached the outskirts of Meryton, Darcy’s thoughts were full of the last time he had been there. The chaise passed the assembly rooms where he had disdained to dance with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, past the place in the main street where he had encountered her walking with Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham. It seemed so long ago, and as though a different person from himself had been there.
Bingley had been quieter than usual on the journey. However, the now familiar landmarks led him to remark on local acquaintances.
Darcy decided that this was the time to broach the possibility of a visit to Longbourn after they had settled in.
“I know that you may wish to shoot as soon as may be. But I would suppose,” he said, more casually than was his wont, “that we might encounter the Misses Bennet during our stay here? I have heard that the youngest is now married, to an officer, but her elder sisters may be at home.”
“That,” said his friend quickly, “would be a capital idea. I have arranged for shooting for the next two days, but perhaps after that...”
At dinner, Bingley called back memories of the ball at Netherfield the previous November. By comparison, the house seemed to Darcy to be very empty, although he was far from regretting the absence of Mrs. Hurst and her sister. He was, however, anxious about the reception they might receive at Longbourn, in particular because Miss Elizabeth was aware of his part in separating her sister Jane from Bingley. Whatever her relief at the outcome of her youngest sister’s elopement, and her recent knowledge of Wickham’s character and behaviour, that might remain between them.
However, his heart would not allow him to forego a visit to the Bennets’ house. So, on the third morning after their arrival in Hertfordshire, Bingley and Darcy rode out from Netherfield.
On entering the house at Longbourn, they were met with that unfortunate combination of excessive politeness and vulgarity which Darcy had always found so distasteful in Mrs. Bennet. They found the four eldest daughters together at their work. As he entered the room, Darcy glanced quickly at Miss Elizabeth, who did not seem to lift up her eyes.
Bingley, Darcy noticed, looked both pleased and embarrassed. However, he soon took the chance to make some little conversation with Miss Jane Bennet, who received them both with tolerable ease, and with a propriety of behaviour free from any symptom of resentment.
Darcy was aware that, whilst Bingley had been received by Mrs. Bennet with a degree of civility, this contrasted with the cold and ceremonious politeness of her curtsey and address to himself.
In the face of this, Darcy, after enquiring of Miss Elizabeth how Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were, said scarcely anything, and Miss Elizabeth was very silent, saying as little to either Darcy or Bingley as civility would allow. But Darcy knew her well enough to observe that she was attending to her work with an eagerness that it did not often command.
As far as he could tell, she had ventured only one glance at himself. He was not seated by her, and so looked around the room. He had often imagined what Longbourn might be like. As he had surmised, it was modestly furnished, but was pleasing by contrast with the grandest and most formal houses he knew, such as Rosings.
As the conversation flowed on, he concentrated on looking more at the eldest sister than at Elizabeth, to see if he could gauge what Miss Bennet’s reaction to seeing his friend Bingley again could be.
With her mother so close, he in any case had little opportunity to speak to the daughter with whom he wished most to converse. There could be no possibility in this room of that happy ease they had begun to establish together in Derbyshire, or even the comparative freedom at Rosings when out of the hearing of Lady Catherine. Miss Elizabeth did enquire after Georgiana, but said no more.
“It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People say, you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled.”
She paused briefly for breath, and Darcy took a quick look at the second daughter, at this reference to her friend. He thought that Miss Elizabeth glanced at him at this reminder of the parsonage at Hunsford, but he was not certain. Meanwhile Mrs. Bennet continued unabated.
“And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the Times and the Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, ‘Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,’ without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or anything. It was my brother Gardiner’s drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?”
Bingley replied to Mrs. Bennet that he was aware of the marriage, and made his congratulations.
Darcy reflected with some satisfaction that the mother of the bride should be singularly ill-informed about the matter if her brother had kept his promise. He did, however, look keenly at her second daughter again at this mention of Wickham, and fancied that she met his glance for a moment, before her eyes dropped again to her needlework.
“It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married,” continued the mother, “but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay, I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the ___shire, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he has some friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves.” And, saying this, she looked pointedly at Darcy.
He noticed that neither of the two elder daughters were looking very comfortable at this mention of their new brother. Mrs. Bennet’s outburst drew from Miss Elizabeth a question to Bingley, whether he meant to make any stay in the country at present.
“A few weeks, he believed.”
But the mother was not to be gainsaid.
“When you have killed all your own birds, Mr. Bingley,” she said, “I beg you will come here, and shoot as many as you please, on Mr. Bennet’s manor. I am sure he will be vastly happy to oblige you, and will save all the best of the covies for you.”
In observing his friend and Miss Jane Bennet, Darcy had already decided that Bingley found her as handsome as he had last year; as good-natured, and as unaffected.
And she, in as far as he could tell without her sister to assist him, was certainly quietly happy to see his friend again. At least, he told himself, that part of the mission had been accomplished to his own satisfaction so far.
When they rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet invited them to dine at Longbourn in a few days’ time.
“You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley,” she added, “for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement.”
Bingley looked awkward at this, but said something to the effect that he had been prevented by business. He added that they would be very happy to accept an invitation for the next Tuesday, and so he and Darcy took their leave.
Over the next few days, it was clear to Darcy that his friend was in a much more settled frame of mind. He himself was sad, irritated and far from good company until Tuesday.
He could see no way of repairing or continuing his friendship with Miss Elizabeth with her mother always present. Indeed, he felt that he might be nearly back to the situation and the relationship with her second daughter where he had been after his visit to Kent.
It was therefore with no great anticipation of pleasure that he set off with Bingley to Longbourn as arranged, where there was a large party assembled. When they had repaired to the dining-room, and after a little hesitation, Bingley took the place by Miss Jane Bennet. Darcy was much less happily settled, being seated on one side of Mrs. Bennet, a situation not likely to give pleasure to either, and a considerable distance from her second daughter. They spoke very little during the repast, and there was little enthusiasm for conversation when they did. Darcy had no pleasure either in talking to the young lady on his other side. He took some comfort that Miss Elizabeth Bennet seemed to have even less conversation with the gentlemen sitting to each side of her.
When he finally came into the drawing-room after dinner, the ladies had crowded round the table, where Miss Bennet was making tea. Miss Elizabeth was pouring out the coffee, but the seats near her were already filled. Darcy, who would normally have drunk tea, decided on this occasion to take coffee. However, on his approaching, one of the girls moved closer to Miss Elizabeth, so that he had no option but to take his cup and then walk away to another part of the room.
When the throng had eased, he went to bring back his cup, and was warmed by her saying immediately before they were interrupted again, “Is your sister at Pemberley still?”
“Yes, she will remain there till Christmas.”
“And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?”
“Mrs. Annesley is with her. The others, Miss Bingley and the Hursts, have been gone on to Scarborough, these three weeks.”
He wished that they might speak more, and so stood by her for some time. But with others so close, and with one young lady whispering to her once more, he had no chance of more conversation and so had to go away again.
When the tea-things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies all rose. Before he was aware of what had happened, Darcy was forced against his inclination to join in a game of whist. He and Miss Elizabeth were at different tables, so that he could have no more enjoyment. Their carriage came ahead of the others, so that there could be no reason for he and Bingley to linger.
A few days more were passed by shooting on the Netherfield estate and, from his friend’s frequent comments and compliments about the lady, Darcy was satisfied of Bingley’s serious attachment to Jane Bennet. He took every opportunity to agree with his friend about her charms and happy disposition.
Indeed, Darcy went as far as to add that he had seen over the recent meetings at Longbourn a partiality in the lady for Bingley of which he had not previously been certain, and which his friend confirmed to him was reciprocated.
Darcy then resolved that he must tell his friend that he, as well as Bingley’s sisters, had known of Miss Bennet being in London for three months last winter. Darcy had rarely seen Bingley angry, but this was one such occasion. It was clear that this deception wounded his friend greatly.
Darcy made no excuses, thinking it best to admit quite simply that he had been wrong, and acknowledged the justice of this reaction, saying that his only excuse had been that he had been unaware of Miss Bennet’s attachment to Bingley at that time.
On this occasion, as on others, Darcy noted how quickly his friend was prepared to forgive and forget. Unlike myself, Darcy thought. Bingley, unwilling to prolong his disquiet in view of his friend’s opinion that Miss Bennet might now receive his addresses with pleasure, soon turned his anger on his sisters. When that also was spent, they agreed that Bingley should go to Longbourn again on the morrow.
“Will you accompany me?”
“No, you must excuse me, for I have had a letter from town, and must be there straightway to attend to some matters of business concerning my estate.”
“In any case,” Darcy added with a smile, “you will find me an encumbrance if you are really intending to find an opportunity soon to make your addresses to Miss Bennet!”
Bingley acknowledged that this might be the case. He failed to observe that his friend appeared to have received no recent messages from London.
Darcy left that morning, saying that he would probably return to Netherfield in ten days’ time.
On the journey to town Darcy reflected, not for the first time, that his friend was very easily deceived.
In truth, there had been no urgent business to take him away, except that he could take the opportunity to express his thanks in person to his cousin, Fitzwilliam, for locating Mrs. Younge, thereby leading Darcy to where Wickham and Lydia Bennet had been living.
Rather, the thought of Bingley’s joy at having his addresses accepted, as Darcy was confident would be the case, was not something that he wished to see at first hand. This was particularly so, compared to his own lack of certainty that Miss Elizabeth Bennet had formed any favourable view of himself.
At Longbourn when he had visited there, she had hardly looked him in the eye, and they had had almost no opportunity to converse. He had indeed observed her embarrassment at the contrast between her mother’s mode of address to Bingley and to himself. But that was no different to his recollection of her reaction during Mrs. Bennet’s visit to Netherfield last winter, when Jane Bennet had been ill, so it gave him very little comfort.
The future, therefore, seemed bleak, and far less than he had hoped for when he had travelled to Hertfordshire. Whilst he had some comfort in having owned his deception to Bingley as far as Miss Jane Bennet was concerned, his own prospects did not look promising.
He therefore wished to be anywhere but Netherfield when the likely outcome of his friend’s intended declaration was confirmed. How he wished that Georgiana was in town rather than at Pemberley. How he would value having her again as his confidant! Darcy could only resolve to keep as busy as he could with his business affairs in town until he heard from Hertfordshire.
What he could not decide in his own mind was his course of action thereafter. Since he had suggested his return to Netherfield, it would seem odd, to say the least, if he did not do so. What other options were there?
On arriving at his house in London, Darcy wrote a note to his cousin, Fitzwilliam, who was lodging at the house of his elder brother, Viscount ––––, in Brook Street.
A prompt reply arrived, inviting Darcy to take luncheon there on the Wednesday. But before that day came, and four days after leaving Netherfield, Darcy received a letter from Bingley.
Three sides of paper conveyed the happy news that he had finally found an opportunity to convey his affections to Miss Bennet, and that she had accepted him. There then followed a detailed account of the kind reception that Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, not to mention their three other daughters at home, had given to this news.
Bingley went on to give details of the early plans for the wedding, and the need to make various other arrangements. He had heard from his sisters in Scarborough that they would be leaving for the south shortly, so that Darcy might like to call on them before he returned to Hertfordshire.
The letter ended by regretting Darcy’s continuing absence, and hoping that his friend might soon rejoin him in Hertfordshire to share in his happiness. A postscript added how the pleasant company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet was consoling his friend when her elder sister was occupied elsewhere.
This news left Darcy with mixed reactions.
He had no intention of making his presence in town known to Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Their lack of courtesy to Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Derbyshire was still fresh in his mind. Any joy that those ladies might express about their brother’s news would be insincere at best, bearing in mind their actions last winter.
Whilst on the one hand he rejoiced in his friend’s happiness, he also reflected that the forthcoming marriage of Bingley with the eldest Miss Bennet would inevitably bring him into more frequent contact with her sister.
He could not come to a view of what would be more painful to him; not to see Miss Elizabeth at all, or to encounter her where she might find more pleasure in the company of other eligible gentlemen.
At least he had the comfort, from their last conversation in Lambton, of knowing that she had come to accept the true nature of Mr. Wickham, even if it had since been necessary for that gentleman to become her brother-in-law so that her concerns about her youngest sister should be met.
On the Wednesday, Darcy found Fitzwilliam waiting for him at the house in Brook Street.
“My brother and his family will join us shortly,” his cousin said. “How is Georgiana?”
“She is well,” Darcy replied, “and has Mrs. Annesley with her at Pemberley.”
“Tell me, Darcy, why you wanted to locate Mrs. Younge?” said Fitzwilliam, with a quizzical smile. “I would have thought that she was the last person in the world you would want to meet again after what happened at Ramsgate last year.”
Darcy recollected that Fitzwilliam had only just returned from the north, and might be unaware of the marriage between Wickham and the youngest Miss Bennet. However, his cousin was likely to hear the news by some means or other, so there seemed little point in dissembling too much about the matter.
“I wished to be of some assistance in discovering the whereabouts of George Wickham. He had taken advantage of another young lady, whose parents were anxious to discover her. But, I do not want my part in the matter to be broadcast abroad. So I hope that you are willing that yours also should not be commonly known.”
Fitzwilliam regarded his cousin with some amusement. “I have heard that Wickham has recently married the youngest sister of a lady whose company you seemed to enjoy in Kent some months ago. However, I will keep your secret, and have no need to publish my small part in the affair.”
Darcy would have welcomed the opportunity to hear his cousin reiterate his good opinion of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. However, he was not anxious to risk revealing his own current agony of mind. So he contented himself with saying, “It is true that he has now married Miss Lydia Bennet. It was a sorry business.”
At that moment, they heard voices in the hall, and the Viscount came into the room with his wife and small sons. Darcy was glad of the interruption. The subject was not revisited during the hours that followed, before he took leave of them.
Having visited his attorney the following day, Darcy returned to his own house in the afternoon. He was surprised to find a carriage with a familiar livery waiting outside.
On entering, he found his aunt standing in the drawing room. It was immediately clear that she was very angry indeed.
“Darcy,” she said imperiously, “I have come here direct from Hertfordshire to see you!”
He, startled, regarded her with a dawning apprehension.
He knew of no acquaintance of hers who might have taken his aunt to that county. He did, however, know some of his own, and one in particular...
His worst fears in that regard were soon realised.
“I went to Longbourn this morning, to see Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Lady Catherine looked at him for some reaction, but seeing none visible then continued, “A report of a most alarming nature had reached me, that not only is the eldest Miss Bennet on the point of being married to your friend, Mr. Bingley, but also that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to you, my own nephew!
“Of course, I went to her father’s house to insist that she should have such a report universally contradicted.”
Lady Catherine paused, and looked at him for agreement. Darcy maintained his composure, and waited for his aunt, for she showed every sign of continuing.
“I was not surprised to find that Mrs. Bennet was in every respect as ill-favoured as I had been led to expect.”
Darcy still kept silent.
“I asked Miss Elizabeth whether you had made her an offer of marriage since, as almost your nearest relation, I am of course entitled to know all your dearest concerns.
“She replied that I was not entitled to know hers!
“I told her that any such match that she had the presumption to aspire to could never take place, since your late mother and I were agreed, when you were both in your cradles, that you and your cousin Anne should be united in marriage. Miss Bennet should know that honour, decorum, prudence, nay, interest, would forbid such a match. She would be censured, slighted, and despised, by every one connected with you.
“She had the impudence to reply that, whilst these would be heavy misfortunes, your wife must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.”
His aunt was totally unaware of the effect that her report of these last few words had on her nephew. The words ran through and through his mind, as Lady Catherine continued.
“I told her that I would not be dissuaded from my purpose by such remarks. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims, or been in the habit of brooking disappointment. I told Miss Bennet that, if she were sensible of her own good, she should not seek to quit the sphere in which she had been brought up.”
Lady Catherine looked at Darcy again for his support. He gave none.
“Miss Bennet had the audacity to reply that, in marrying my nephew, she would not consider herself as quitting that sphere; that you are a gentleman; and that she is a gentleman’s daughter; so in that you would be equal.
“I made it quite clear that I knew how inferior are the connections of her mother’s family. But that appeared to be of no concern to her.
“Instead, she said that, whatever her connections might be, if you did not object to them, they could be nothing to me!
“She did admit to me that she is not engaged to you. I asked her to promise me never to enter into such an engagement.”
Darcy concealed his anxiety as best he could, as he waited to hear her next words. It seemed to him a very long moment before she spoke but, when she did, her report was everything that he could have hoped to hear. However, it was clearly contrary to what his aunt had intended.
“She had the effrontery to reply that she would make no promise of the kind.”
Darcy let out his breath silently, as his aunt went on, with mounting indignation.
“Indeed, she said that, in any case, her giving such a promise would not make a marriage between you and my dear Anne at all more probable.”
He certainly did not dissent from that view, but said nothing as his aunt continued.
“I told her that I am no stranger to the particulars of her youngest sister’s infamous elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a patched-up business, at the expense of her father and uncles. Such a girl is of course totally unsuitable to be your sister by marriage, as is the son of your late father’s steward to be your brother.”
Darcy reflected to himself that, if his aunt had really “known it all,” her words would have been much more extreme. Her reaction if she had been aware that Darcy himself had brought the whole matter about could only be imagined. He did not remind himself that he might have shared his aunt’s views not so many months ago.
“I charged her that she had no regard for your honour and credit, that a connection with her must disgrace you in the eyes of everybody.”
“She replied that she was resolved to act in that manner, which would, in her own opinion, constitute her own happiness, without reference to me, or to anyone so wholly unconnected to her.”
“When I told her that she appeared to be determined to ruin you in the opinion of all your friends, and make you the contempt of the world,
“She replied that neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude, had any possible claim on her, and that no principle of either would be violated by her marriage with you.”
His aunt paused and, getting no response from him, she then said, with every appearance of expecting a favourable reply, “Darcy, you will appreciate why I was most seriously displeased. You must give me the assurances which that ungrateful young woman has withheld.”
To reinforce her point, she went on to repeat sentiments that, although less explicitly, she had told him many times before.
“As my nephew, you and Anne are formed for each other. Both of you are descended on the maternal side from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, honourable, and ancient, though untitled families. You have been destined for each other by the voice of every member of our respective houses. You are not to be divided by the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune!”
There was a silence for a few moments and she awaited his reply.
Darcy found himself quite calm, now that the time had come for him to speak. He looked his aunt directly in the eye as he began.
“I have the greatest respect for my cousin Anne, and for you, and that will continue,” he said. “However, I would wish to achieve in my own marriage the happiness and affection which my mother and father shared. As to whom I should marry, that is a private matter which I do not intend to discuss with anyone. It is not my wish to offend, but the intervention of others is not calculated to assist me, or to influence my choice.”
Lady Catherine regarded him with alarm and dismay, and her voice rose to an angrier pitch as she said, “Are you refusing to give me the assurance I seek? She is a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Such a marriage would be against the wishes of all your friends! Your alliance would be a disgrace; her name would never even be mentioned by any of us.”
She looked again at Darcy for a response, but he remained silent.
“Are you refusing to honour the agreement between your dear mother and myself? Will you not promise me never to enter into such an engagement?”
“My mother told me of no such agreement. I know myself of none. I have no wish to upset you, and I have every respect for my mother’s memory,” Darcy replied, quietly. “But, as I have already said, there are other considerations to which I give priority.”
“I cannot believe,” said his aunt, “that you are willing to put aside the wishes of your nearest family in this matter!”
Darcy looked at her without expression, and said nothing.
And although Lady Catherine continued in the same vein for fully fifteen more minutes, he would not yield.
Eventually, his aunt left, in as angry a mood as he had ever seen her, without the assurances that she had sought.
Darcy found himself with such a mixture of emotions after Lady Catherine had left that it was some time before he was able to think calmly.
He was at first at a loss to know how the idea of an alliance between himself and Miss Elizabeth Bennet might have occurred to his aunt.
Then he recalled that Mrs. Collins’ family lived in have Hertfordshire. The news of Bingley’s engagement would travelled to his aunt by that route, and might have prompted speculation about a liaison between himself and the sister of Jane Bennet. It would be also from her chaplain, Mr. Collins, that Lady Catherine would have heard of the recent marriage between Lydia Bennet and Wickham.
His aunt had apparently therefore made a special journey to Hertfordshire, for the sole purpose of obtaining a promise from Elizabeth Bennet which, in her own words only four months ago in Kent, that lady should have been more than happy to give.
Yet she had refused to provide such an assurance.
He could well imagine that Miss Elizabeth might have been more than offended by Lady Catherine’s manner of address. Indeed, he had to acknowledge that he and she shared the disadvantage of some close relations who cared little for discreet conversation. However, he did not believe that his aunt’s outspoken comments would have prevented Elizabeth from speaking her views plainly.
“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”
He remembered only too painfully those words she had said to him only a few months ago in the parsonage at Hunsford; and others—
“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you.”
And, above all,
“Had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner...”
How those words had tortured him since then! What a contrast did Miss Elizabeth’s answer to Lady Catherine now appear, which had just been repeated to him,
“ . . . that his wife must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine?”
Those words touched in him such depths of emotion as he had rarely felt able to admit to himself before.
They indicated a state of mind in the speaker which had seemed to be impossible only a few months ago. He found it difficult to believe that Lady Catherine would have had any reason to fabricate such a remark.
Was it conceivable that Elizabeth Bennet had really said those words? For the first time since she had rejected his addresses in April, he felt some confidence that she might have changed her mind about marriage to him.
Darcy had seen at Rosings that she would have not been in any awe of Lady Catherine. Surely, she would not have hesitated to tell his aunt what she thought, if she had been irrevocably decided against him?
Darcy reflected that he should at least be grateful to Lady Catherine for making the journey to Hertfordshire, if only for the nature of the intelligence which she had brought back with her, and his first thought was to return to Netherfield the very next morning. Then he recollected that he had made arrangements to see his cousins in Brook Street again the next day.
In any case, his agitation of mind was such that it might be more prudent to keep to his original arrangements, and delay his departure.
So Darcy contented himself with sending a note to Bingley, congratulating him on the happy news, and advising that he would be returning to Hertfordshire himself at the end of the week.
The next two days seemed to pass very slowly and, though Darcy reviewed the conversation with his aunt to himself, both by day and during each night, he was no nearer any certainty in knowing what Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s true feelings might be.
However, he did resolve that he could not bear much more delay in finding out, and decided that he would accompany Bingley on his first visit to Longbourn once he had reached Hertfordshire.
“Darcy! I am the luckiest of men, and my dear Jane and I have been waiting to share our joy with you!” said his friend when Darcy entered Netherfield.
“I can see,” said Darcy, “that you are as happy as I had expected! And are you now a welcome member of the Bennet family?”
“I have been at Longbourn every day since I wrote to you. Their kindness is overwhelming, and Mr. Bennet is being everything affable,” said Bingley. “Mrs. Bennet seeks to meet my every need, and my dear Jane’s sisters are all attention, especially Elizabeth, as I wrote to you.”
“But you will not guess who has been a recent visitor to Longbourn,” his friend went on.
Bingley then related the intelligence already known to Darcy, which reminded him of an encounter only a few days ago in town.
“Your aunt Lady Catherine! Apparently she came to see Elizabeth, for they went off into the copse and had a long conversation together. Jane and I did not know who the visitor was, or I would have greeted her myself, and so we went to talk without interruption in the shrubbery. My new sister must be a great favourite of your aunt’s from her visit to Rosings at Easter, to be so favoured!”
It was impossible to compose any answer to this that could be conveyed to Bingley or that Darcy was prepared to reveal. Indeed, his friend’s comment was so far from the truth that Darcy decided to change the subject immediately.
“So you and Miss Bennet are to be married before the end of the year?”
“Yes,” replied Bingley, “and we shall live at Netherfield, at least to begin with.”
Darcy reflected to himself that such an immediate proximity to Mrs. Bennet would not be his own preference, but then his friend was of a less demanding and much more forgiving disposition than himself.
Bingley then went on to enumerate all the many qualities in the eldest Miss Bennet of which he always had been convinced, and of all his expectations of enduring felicity.
Darcy listened to this recital with more patience than he might have found in the past. There was pain indeed in hearing of happiness that he might be unable ever to replicate for himself. But the occasional mention of Miss Elizabeth in his friend’s words was of some small comfort to him in his own present uneasiness of mind.
Darcy was about to ask whether the arrangements for the following day included both the elder Miss Bennets when his friend pre-empted him.
“I am going to Longbourn again tomorrow to see Jane. You must join me, and perhaps we can take a walk with some of her sisters into the countryside round about, if it proves to be a nice day. I know that Elizabeth enjoys the countryside. Indeed, she had told me that she had great pleasure when she was in Kent in walking through the park at Rosings.”
This reminder of his most recent visit to Kent brought back so many unhappy memories for Darcy that he thought that they must be visible on his face.
But Bingley continued to talk about his pleasure in his new situation until it was time to retire, and did not appear to notice Darcy’s distress.