Chapter 52

“Gracechurch Street, Sept. 6.

“Gracechurch Street, September 6.

“I have just received your letter, and shall devote this whole morning to answering it, as I foresee that a little writing will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself surprised by your application; I did not expect it from you. Don’t think me angry, however, for I only mean to let you know, that I had not imagined such inquiries to be necessary on your side. If you do not choose to understand me, forgive my impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am; and nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed him to act as he has done. But if you are really innocent and ignorant, I must be more explicit. On the very day of my coming home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called, and was shut up with him several hours. It was all over before I arrived; so my curiosity was not so dreadfully racked as yours seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he had found out where your sister and Mr. Wickham were, and that he had seen and talked with them both—Wickham repeatedly, Lydia once. From what I can collect, he left Derbyshire only one day after ourselves, and came to town with the resolution of hunting for them. The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to himself that Wickham’s worthlessness had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he had another motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him. He had been some days in town before he was able to discover them; but he had something to direct his search, which was more than we had; and the consciousness of this was another reason for his resolving to follow us. There is a lady, it seems, a Mrs. Younge, who was some time ago governess to Miss Darcy, and was dismissed from her charge on some cause of disapprobation, though he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street, and has since maintained herself by letting lodgings. This Mrs. Younge was, he knew, intimately acquainted with Wickham; and he went to her for intelligence of him, as soon as he got to town. But it was two or three days before he could get from her what he wanted. She would not betray her trust, I suppose, without bribery and corruption, for she really did know where her friend was to be found. Wickham, indeed, had gone to her on their first arrival in London; and had she been able to receive them into her house, they would have taken up their abode with her. At length, however, our kind friend procured the wished-for direction. They were in —— Street. He saw Wickham, and afterwards insisted on seeing Lydia. His first object with her, he acknowledged, had been to persuade her to quit her present disgraceful situation, and return to her friends as soon as they could be prevailed on to receive her, offering his assistance as far as it would go. But he found Lydia absolutely resolved on remaining where she was. She cared for none of her friends; she wanted no help of his; she would not hear of leaving Wickham. She was sure they should be married some time or other, and it did not much signify when. Since such were her feelings, it only remained, he thought, to secure and expedite a marriage, which, in his very first conversation with Wickham, he easily learnt had never been his design. He confessed himself obliged to leave the regiment on account of some debts of honour which were very pressing; and scrupled not to lay all the ill consequences of Lydia’s flight on her own folly alone. He meant to resign his commission immediately; and as to his future situation, he could conjecture very little about it. He must go somewhere, but he did not know where, and he knew he should have nothing to live on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once. Though Mr. Bennet was not imagined to be very rich, he would have been able to do something for him, and his situation must have been benefited by marriage. But he found, in reply to this question, that Wickham still cherished the hope of more effectually making his fortune by marriage, in some other country. Under such circumstances, however, he was not likely to be proof against the temptation of immediate relief. They met several times, for there was much to be discussed. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he could get; but at length was reduced to be reasonable. Everything being settled between them, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to make your uncle acquainted with it, and he first called in Gracechurch Street the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner could not be seen; and Mr. Darcy found, on further inquiry, that your father was still with him, but would quit town the next morning. He did not judge your father to be a person whom he could so properly consult as your uncle, and therefore readily postponed seeing him till after the departure of the former. He did not leave his name, and till the next day it was only known that a gentleman had called on business. On Saturday he came again. Your father was gone, your uncle at home, and, as I said before, they had a great deal of talk together. They met again on Sunday, and then I saw him too. It was not all settled before Monday: as soon as it was, the express was sent off to Longbourn. But our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character, after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times; but this is the true one. Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself; though I am sure (and I do not speak it to be thanked, therefore say nothing about it) your uncle would most readily have settled the whole. They battled it together for a long time, which was more than either the gentleman or lady concerned in it deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of it, which went sorely against the grain; and I really believe your letter this morning gave him great pleasure, because it required an explanation that would rob him of his borrowed feathers, and give the praise where it was due. But, Lizzy, this must go no further than yourself, or Jane at most. You know pretty well, I suppose, what has been done for the young people. His debts are to be paid, amounting, I believe, to considerably more than a thousand pounds, another thousand in addition to her own settled upon her, and his commission purchased. The reason why all this was to be done by him alone, was such as I have given above. It was owing to him, to his reserve and want of proper consideration, that Wickham’s character had been so misunderstood, and consequently that he had been received and noticed as he was. Perhaps there was some truth in this; though I doubt whether his reserve, or anybody’s reserve can be answerable for the event. But in spite of all this fine talking, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit for another interest in the affair. When all this was resolved on, he returned again to his friends, who were still staying at Pemberley; but it was agreed that he should be in London once more when the wedding took place, and all money matters were then to receive the last finish. I believe I have now told you everything. It is a relation which you tell me is to give you great surprise; I hope at least it will not afford you any displeasure. Lydia came to us, and Wickham had constant admission to the house. He was exactly what he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire; but I would not tell you how little I was satisfied with her behaviour while she stayed with us, if I had not perceived, by Jane’s letter last Wednesday, that her conduct on coming home was exactly of a piece with it, and therefore what I now tell you can give you no fresh pain. I talked to her repeatedly in the most serious manner, representing to her the wickedness of what she had done, and all the unhappiness she had brought on her family. If she heard me, it was by good luck, for I am sure she did not listen. I was sometimes quite provoked; but then I recollected my dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for their sakes had patience with her. Mr. Darcy was punctual in his return, and, as Lydia informed you, attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day, and was to leave town again on Wednesday or Thursday. Will you be very angry with me, my dear Lizzy, if I take this opportunity of saying (what I was never bold enough to say before) how much I like him? His behaviour to us has, in every respect, been as pleasing as when we were in Derbyshire. His understanding and opinions all please me; he wants nothing but a little more liveliness, and that, if he marry prudently, his wife may teach him. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever mentioned your name. But slyness seems the fashion. Pray forgive me, if I have been very presuming, or at least do not punish me so far as to exclude me from P. I shall never be quite happy till I have been all round the park. A low phaeton with a nice little pair of ponies would be the very thing. But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me this half hour.

“I have just received your letter, and I will spend this whole morning answering it. I can already see that a little writing will not cover everything I have to tell you. I must admit that your request surprised me. I did not expect it from you. But don’t think I am angry. I only mean that I had not imagined such questions would be necessary on your side. If you choose not to understand me, forgive my nosiness. Your uncle is as surprised as I am. He would never have acted as he did unless he believed you were personally involved. But if you really know nothing about the matter, I must explain more clearly. On the very day I came home from Longbourn, your uncle had a most unexpected visitor. Mr. Darcy called, and they spoke privately for several hours. Their meeting was over before I arrived. So my curiosity was not tormented nearly as much as yours seems to have been. He came to tell Mr. Gardiner that he had discovered where your sister and Mr. Wickham were staying. He had seen and spoken to them both, Wickham several times and Lydia once. From what I can gather, he left Derbyshire only one day after we did. He came to London determined to find them. His stated reason was that he believed himself responsible for Wickham’s bad character remaining so little known. Had Wickham’s character been known, no respectable young woman could have loved or trusted him. He generously blamed everything on his own misguided pride. He admitted that he had previously thought it beneath him to make his private affairs public. His character was supposed to speak for itself. He therefore called it his duty to come forward and try to repair the harm he had caused. If he had another reason, I am sure it would never bring him shame. He had been in London for several days before he managed to find them. But he had a lead to follow, which was more than we had. Knowing he had that advantage was another reason he decided to follow us. Apparently, there is a lady named Mrs. Younge who was once Miss Darcy’s governess. She was dismissed for some misconduct, though he did not say what. She then took a large house in Edward Street and has since supported herself by renting out rooms. He knew this Mrs. Younge was a close acquaintance of Wickham’s. So he went to her for information about him as soon as he reached London. But getting the information he wanted took two or three days. I suppose she would not betray his confidence without being bribed, for she really did know where her friend was. Wickham had, in fact, gone to her when they first arrived in London. If she had been able to take them in, they would have stayed with her. At last, however, our kind friend obtained the address he wanted. They were in —— Street. He saw Wickham, then insisted on seeing Lydia. He admitted that his first aim was to persuade her to leave her disgraceful situation. He wanted her to return to her family as soon as they could be persuaded to receive her. He offered whatever help he could give. But he found Lydia absolutely determined to stay where she was. She cared nothing for her family and friends. She wanted no help from him, and she would not hear of leaving Wickham. She was sure they would marry sooner or later, and it did not much matter when. Given her feelings, he thought his only remaining course was to arrange a marriage and hurry it along. In his very first conversation with Wickham, he easily discovered that marriage had never been his intention. Wickham admitted that he had been forced to leave the regiment because of some urgent gambling debts. He had no hesitation in blaming all the bad consequences of Lydia’s flight on her foolishness alone. He intended to resign his commission immediately. As for his future, he had very little idea what would become of him. He must go somewhere, but he did not know where. He knew he would have nothing to live on. Mr. Darcy asked why he did not marry your sister at once. Although Mr. Bennet was not thought very rich, he could have done something for Wickham. Marriage must have improved Wickham’s situation. But Wickham’s answer revealed that he still hoped to make a better fortune by marrying someone elsewhere in the country. In his circumstances, however, he was unlikely to resist the temptation of immediate financial help. They met several times, for there was much to discuss. Wickham, of course, wanted more than he could get. But at last he was brought to be reasonable. Once everything was settled between them, Mr. Darcy’s next step was to tell your uncle. He first called in Gracechurch Street on the evening before I came home. But Mr. Gardiner was unavailable. On asking further, Mr. Darcy learned that your father was still staying with him, but would leave London the next morning. He did not think your father was as suitable a person to consult as your uncle. So he willingly postponed the meeting until after your father’s departure. He did not leave his name. Until the next day, all anyone knew was that a gentleman had called on business. He came again on Saturday. Your father had gone, your uncle was at home, and, as I said, they had a great deal to discuss. They met again on Sunday, and then I saw him too. Everything was not settled until Monday. As soon as it was, a special messenger was sent to Longbourn. But our visitor was very stubborn. I suspect, Lizzy, that stubbornness is the real fault in his character after all. He has been accused of many faults at different times, but this is the true one. He insisted on doing everything himself. Yet I am sure your uncle would most willingly have paid for the whole arrangement. I am not saying this to be thanked, so say nothing about it. They argued over the matter for a long time, longer than either the gentleman or lady involved deserved. But at last your uncle was forced to give in. Instead of being allowed to help his niece, he had to accept that he would probably receive only the credit. That went very much against his wishes. I really believe your letter this morning gave him great pleasure. Your questions required an explanation that would strip him of his borrowed glory and give the praise where it belonged. But, Lizzy, you must tell no one about this, except Jane at most. I suppose you know fairly well what has been done for the young couple. His debts will be paid. I believe they amount to considerably more than a thousand pounds. Another thousand pounds will be settled on her, in addition to her own money, and his officer’s commission will be purchased. His reason for paying for everything himself was the one I have already given. He blamed his secrecy and lack of proper thought for Wickham’s character being so misunderstood. As a result, Wickham had been welcomed and treated with respect. Perhaps there was some truth in this. Still, I doubt whether his secrecy, or anybody’s secrecy, can be held responsible for what happened. But despite all this fine talk, my dear Lizzy, you may be perfectly sure of one thing. Your uncle would never have given in unless we had believed Mr. Darcy had another interest in the affair. Once everything was agreed, he returned to his friends, who were still staying at Pemberley. But they agreed that he should come back to London for the wedding. All the financial arrangements would then be completed. I believe I have now told you everything. You tell me this account will surprise you greatly. At least I hope it will not upset you. Lydia came to stay with us, and Wickham was allowed to visit whenever he wished. He was exactly as he had been when I knew him in Hertfordshire. I would not tell you how dissatisfied I was with her behaviour during her stay, except for Jane’s letter last Wednesday. Jane’s letter showed me that Lydia behaved exactly the same way after coming home. So what I tell you now can cause you no new pain. I spoke to her seriously several times. I explained how wrong her actions had been and how much unhappiness she had brought upon her family. If she heard me, it was by chance, for I am sure she did not listen. Sometimes I was quite angry. But then I remembered my dear Elizabeth and Jane, and for their sakes I was patient with her. Mr. Darcy returned exactly when he said he would and, as Lydia told you, attended the wedding. He dined with us the next day and planned to leave London again on Wednesday or Thursday. My dear Lizzy, will you be very angry if I take this opportunity to say how much I like him? I have never been bold enough to say so before. His behaviour towards us has been just as pleasant in every way as it was in Derbyshire. His intelligence and opinions please me in every respect. He needs only a little more liveliness. And that, if he marries wisely, his wife may teach him. I thought him very secretive. He hardly ever mentioned your name. But secrecy seems to be the fashion. Please forgive me if I have assumed too much. At least, do not punish me by shutting me out of P. I shall never be quite happy until I have explored the whole park. A low phaeton carriage with a nice little pair of ponies would be just the thing. But I must write no more. The children have been wanting me for the past half hour.