Chapter 25

AFTER a week spent in professions of love and schemes of felicity, Mr. Collins was called from his amiable Charlotte by the arrival of Saturday. The pain of separation, however, might be alleviated on his side by preparations for the reception of his bride, as he had reason to hope, that shortly after his next return into Hertfordshire, the day would be fixed that was to make him the happiest of men. He took leave of his relations at Longbourn with as much solemnity as before; wished his fair cousins health and happiness again, and promised their father another letter of thanks.

After a week of declarations of love and plans for happiness, Saturday came, and Mr. Collins left his dear Charlotte. However, preparing to welcome his bride might ease the pain of separation for him. He had reason to hope they would set their wedding date soon after his next return to Hertfordshire. That day would make him the happiest of men. He said goodbye to his relatives at Longbourn just as solemnly as before. He again wished his lovely cousins health and happiness, and promised their father another letter of thanks.

On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who came, as usual, to spend the Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, gentlemanlike man, greatly superior to his sister, as well by nature as education. The Netherfield ladies would have had difficulty in believing that a man who lived by trade, and within view of his own warehouses, could have been so well-bred and agreeable. Mrs. Gardiner, who was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips, was an amiable, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great favourite with her Longbourn nieces. Between the two eldest and herself especially, there subsisted a very particular regard. They had frequently been staying with her in town.

The following Monday, Mrs. Bennet was delighted to welcome her brother and his wife. As usual, they had come to spend Christmas at Longbourn. Mr. Gardiner was a sensible, well-mannered man, far superior to his sister in both natural qualities and education. The Netherfield ladies would have struggled to believe that a man in business could be so polished and pleasant. He even lived within sight of his own warehouses. Mrs. Gardiner was several years younger than Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips. She was a kind, intelligent, elegant woman, and a great favourite with her nieces at Longbourn. She and the two eldest nieces were especially fond of one another. The two eldest had often stayed with her in London.

The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business, on her arrival, was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions. When this was done, she had a less active part to play. It became her turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to relate, and much to complain of. They had all been very ill-used since she last saw her sister. Two of her girls had been on the point of marriage, and after all there was nothing in it.

When Mrs. Gardiner arrived, her first task was to hand out her presents and describe the latest fashions. Once that was done, she had a less active role to play. It was her turn to listen. Mrs. Bennet had many grievances to share and much to complain about. The family had all been treated very badly since Mrs. Bennet had last seen her sister. Two of her daughters had been about to marry, and after all, nothing had come of it.

“I do not blame Jane,” she continued, “for Jane would have got Mr. Bingley if she could. But, Lizzy! Oh, sister! it is very hard to think that she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by this time, had not it been for her own perverseness. He made her an offer in this very room, and she refused him. The consequence of it is, that Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I have, and that Longbourn estate is just as much entailed as ever. The Lucases are very artful people, indeed, sister. They are all for what they can get. I am sorry to say it of them, but so it is. It makes me very nervous and poorly, to be thwarted so in my own family, and to have neighbours who think of themselves before anybody else. However, your coming just at this time is the greatest of comforts, and I am very glad to hear what you tell us of long sleeves.”

“I don’t blame Jane,” she continued, “because Jane would have married Mr. Bingley if she could. But Lizzy! Oh, sister! It’s very hard to think she might have been Mr. Collins’s wife by now, if not for her own stubbornness. He proposed to her in this very room, and she turned him down. As a result, Lady Lucas will have a daughter married before I do. And the Longbourn estate is still just as firmly tied up by inheritance laws as ever. The Lucases are very scheming people indeed, sister. All they care about is what they can get. I’m sorry to say so about them, but it’s true. Having my own family go against my wishes makes me feel very nervous and unwell. So does having neighbours who think of themselves before anyone else. Still, having you here just now is the greatest comfort. And I’m very glad to hear what you tell us about long sleeves.”

Mrs. Gardiner, to whom the chief of this news had been given before, in the course of Jane and Elizabeth’s correspondence with her, made her sister a slight answer, and, in compassion to her nieces, turned the conversation.

Mrs. Gardiner already knew most of this news from Jane and Elizabeth’s letters to her. She gave her sister a brief reply and, out of sympathy for her nieces, changed the subject.

When alone with Elizabeth afterwards, she spoke more on the subject. “It seems likely to have been a desirable match for Jane,” said she. “I am sorry it went off. But these things happen so often! A young man, such as you describe Mr. Bingley, so easily falls in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks, and, when accident separates them, so easily forgets her, that these sort of inconstancies are very frequent.”

Later, when she was alone with Elizabeth, she said more about the matter. “It seems the marriage would have been a good match for Jane,” she said. “I’m sorry it fell through. But these things happen so often! A young man like the Mr. Bingley you describe can so easily fall in love with a pretty girl for a few weeks. And when chance separates them, he can so easily forget her. So these changes of heart are very common.”

“An excellent consolation in its way,” said Elizabeth; “but it will not do for us. We do not suffer by accident. It does not often happen that the interference of friends will persuade a young man of independent fortune to think no more of a girl whom he was violently in love with only a few days before.”

“That’s an excellent comfort in its way,” said Elizabeth, “but it will not do for us. Our suffering is no accident. Friends rarely interfere so successfully that a young man with his own fortune stops thinking about a girl. Not when he was deeply in love with her only a few days earlier.”

“But that expression of ‘violently in love’ is so hackneyed, so doubtful, so indefinite, that it gives me very little idea. It is as often applied to feelings which arise only from a half hour’s acquaintance, as to a real, strong attachment. Pray, how violent was Mr. Bingley’s love?”

“But the phrase ‘violently in love’ is so overused, so questionable, and so vague that it tells me very little. People use it as often for feelings formed after half an hour together as for a genuine, strong attachment. Tell me, how violent was Mr. Bingley’s love?”

“I never saw a more promising inclination; he was growing quite inattentive to other people, and wholly engrossed by her. Every time they met, it was more decided and remarkable. At his own ball he offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance; and I spoke to him twice myself without receiving an answer. Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?”

“I’ve never seen more promising signs of attraction. He was paying less and less attention to other people and was completely absorbed in her. Every time they met, his interest became clearer and more noticeable. At his own ball, he offended two or three young ladies by not asking them to dance. And I spoke to him twice myself without getting an answer. Could there be better signs? Isn’t being rude to everyone the very essence of love?”

“Oh, yes! of that kind of love which I suppose him to have felt. Poor Jane! I am sorry for her, because, with her disposition, she may not get over it immediately. It had better have happened to you, Lizzy; you would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she would be prevailed on to go back with us? Change of scene might be of service—and perhaps a little relief from home may be as useful as anything.”

“Oh, yes! The kind of love I suppose he felt. Poor Jane! I feel sorry for her because, with her personality, she may not get over it quickly. It would have been better if this had happened to you, Lizzy. You would have laughed yourself out of it sooner. But do you think she could be persuaded to come back with us? A change of scene might help. And perhaps a little break from home may be as useful as anything.”

Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with this proposal, and felt persuaded of her sister’s ready acquiescence.

Elizabeth was very pleased with this proposal. And she felt sure her sister would readily agree.

“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that no consideration with regard to this young man will influence her. We live in so different a part of town, all our connections are so different, and, as you well know, we go out so little, that it is very improbable they should meet at all, unless he really comes to see her.”

“I hope,” added Mrs. Gardiner, “that nothing about this young man will influence her. We live in such a different part of town, and all our social connections are so different. Besides, as you well know, we go out so little. So they are very unlikely to meet at all, unless he actually comes to see her.”

“And that is quite impossible; for he is now in the custody of his friend, and Mr. Darcy would no more suffer him to call on Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may, perhaps, have heard of such a place as Gracechurch Street, but he would hardly think a month’s ablution enough to cleanse him from its impurities, were he once to enter it; and, depend upon it, Mr. Bingley never stirs without him.”

“And that is quite impossible, because he is now under his friend’s control. Mr. Darcy would never let him visit Jane in such a part of London! My dear aunt, how could you think of it? Mr. Darcy may, perhaps, have heard of a place called Gracechurch Street. But if he ever entered it, he would hardly think a month of washing enough to remove its filth. And you can be sure Mr. Bingley never goes anywhere without him.”

“So much the better. I hope they will not meet at all. But does not Jane correspond with his sister? She will not be able to help calling.”

“Even better. I hope they won’t meet at all. But doesn’t Jane write to his sister? She won’t be able to avoid visiting.”

“She will drop the acquaintance entirely.”

“She will cut off contact completely.”

But, in spite of the certainty in which Elizabeth affected to place this point, as well as the still more interesting one of Bingley’s being withheld from seeing Jane, she felt a solicitude on the subject which convinced her, on examination, that she did not consider it entirely hopeless. It was possible, and sometimes she thought it probable, that his affection might be re-animated, and the influence of his friends successfully combated by the more natural influence of Jane’s attractions.

But Elizabeth only pretended to be certain about this point and the still more interesting question of Bingley being kept from Jane. Despite her apparent certainty, she felt anxious about the situation. When she examined her feelings, she realized she did not think it entirely hopeless. Bingley’s affection might return, and sometimes she thought it probably would. And Jane’s charms might exert a more natural influence over him, successfully overcoming his friends’ influence.

Miss Bennet accepted her aunt’s invitation with pleasure; and the Bingleys were no otherwise in her thoughts at the same time than as she hoped, by Caroline’s not living in the same house with her brother, she might occasionally spend a morning with her, without any danger of seeing him.

Miss Bennet gladly accepted her aunt’s invitation. Her only thought of the Bingleys at the time was a hope about visiting Caroline. Since Caroline did not live with her brother, Miss Bennet hoped she might occasionally spend a morning with her. There would be no risk of seeing him.

The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn; and what with the Philipses, the Lucases, and the officers, there was not a day without its engagement. Mrs. Bennet had so carefully provided for the entertainment of her brother and sister, that they did not once sit down to a family dinner. When the engagement was for home, some of the officers always made part of it, of which officers Mr. Wickham was sure to be one; and on these occasions Mrs. Gardiner, rendered suspicious by Elizabeth’s warm commendation of him, narrowly observed them both. Without supposing them, from what she saw, to be very seriously in love, their preference of each other was plain enough to make her a little uneasy; and she resolved to speak to Elizabeth on the subject before she left Hertfordshire, and represent to her the imprudence of encouraging such an attachment.

The Gardiners stayed a week at Longbourn. Between the Philipses, the Lucases, and the officers, they had social plans every day. Mrs. Bennet had planned her brother and sister-in-law’s entertainment so carefully that they never once dined with just the family. When they entertained at home, some of the officers always joined them, and Mr. Wickham was sure to be among them. On these occasions, Mrs. Gardiner watched Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham closely, her suspicions raised by Elizabeth’s warm praise of him. From what she saw, Mrs. Gardiner did not suppose either was very seriously in love. Still, their preference for each other was clear enough to make her a little uneasy. So she decided to speak to Elizabeth before leaving Hertfordshire and explain how unwise encouraging such an attachment would be.

To Mrs. Gardiner, Wickham had one means of affording pleasure, unconnected with his general powers. About ten or a dozen years ago, before her marriage, she had spent a considerable time in that very part of Derbyshire to which he belonged. They had, therefore, many acquaintance in common; and, though Wickham had been little there since the death of Darcy’s father, five years before, it was yet in his power to give her fresher intelligence of her former friends than she had been in the way of procuring.

Wickham had one way to please Mrs. Gardiner beyond his usual charm. About ten or twelve years earlier, before her marriage, she had spent considerable time in his part of Derbyshire. So they knew many of the same people. Wickham had spent little time there since Darcy’s father died five years earlier. Even so, he could give her more recent news of her old friends than she had been able to get.

Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley, and known the late Mr. Darcy by character perfectly well. Here, consequently, was an inexhaustible subject of discourse. In comparing her recollection of Pemberley with the minute description which Wickham could give, and in bestowing her tribute of praise on the character of its late possessor, she was delighting both him and herself. On being made acquainted with the present Mr. Darcy’s treatment of him, she tried to remember something of that gentleman’s reputed disposition, when quite a lad, which might agree with it; and was confident, at last, that she recollected having heard Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy formerly spoken of as a very proud, ill-natured boy.

Mrs. Gardiner had seen Pemberley and knew the late Mr. Darcy’s character very well by reputation. So they had an endless subject to discuss. She compared her memories of Pemberley with Wickham’s detailed descriptions and added her praise of its late owner’s character. In doing so, she delighted both Wickham and herself. When she learned how the present Mr. Darcy had treated Wickham, she tried to recall his reputation as a boy. She hoped to remember something about his character that would fit such behavior. At last, she felt certain she remembered hearing Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy described as a very proud, bad-tempered boy.