EPILOGUE
It was not long before Hertfordshire and its surrounding neighbourhood had entirely recovered from the astonishment of two engagements announced within so short a span (Bingley soon, in the new year, asked for Jane’s hand in marriage) though it must be owned that the circumstance afforded matter for conversation for a considerable time thereafter.
The marriages, when they took place, as Darcy had requested of his friend, were celebrated with every satisfaction such occasions require; and if Mrs. Bennet had once believed her happiness complete, she was soon convinced of her error, for it admitted of continual increase.
Darcy was married in January, and Mr. Bingley, to the astonishment of all who knew his eager disposition, was obliged to exercise a patience he had never before been called upon to command.
For his friend, having carried his bride to Pemberley with all the ardour of a man newly in love, showed very little inclination to leave it again.
Miss Bennet, however, declared with gentle firmness that she would not be married without her sister beside her; and thus Mr. Bingley’s happiness was delayed until Easter, when at last Darcy could be prevailed upon to leave his northern paradise and return to Hertfordshire – though not, it was widely suspected, without considerable reluctance.
Kitty and Lydia, whose spirits had never been deficient, found in the years that followed no lack of diversion.
Both were invited more than once to Pemberley, where they were received with kindness, and where Lydia, in particular, never failed to make her presence fully known.
At other times, they joined their sister and Mr. Darcy at the seaside, or accompanied them in their travels, which Lydia declared to be vastly superior to remaining in Hertfordshire.
Darcy, now their brother, gave each a horse as a gift on declaring their riding skills sufficient after their first time at Pemberly.
Both sisters were presented in London society at the age of nineteen, and though neither married immediately, their prospects were not diminished by delay.
Lydia was the first to settle. No longer wanting to marry as soon as possible, at two-and-twenty, she married the son of Mr. Darcy’s lawyer, a gentleman of sound character and steady ambition, who in time rose to become a judge in London.
The situation suited Lydia perfectly. She took great pleasure in the liveliness of the capital, became a favourite in society, and was frequently prevailed upon to entertain her acquaintances at the pianoforte – an office she performed with enthusiasm, if not always with perfect discipline.
Kitty followed shortly, and to the surprise of many, made a most agreeable match.
Her husband, a baron of easy temper, was entirely indifferent to her want of fortune, even if Darcy offered to augment it, being quite satisfied with her cheerful disposition and the sweetness of her manners – qualities in which Kitty was never deficient.
Mary’s marriage, though less brilliant, proved by no means unfortunate – though it did not begin without difficulty.
Being, at first, greatly mortified by her husband’s unfortunate habit of communicating too freely with his patroness, she was compelled to seek guidance elsewhere.
In this, she found steady support in Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, who advised her with both kindness and good sense.
It was further arranged, for her comfort, that she might at any time send word to Pemberley, where a carriage would be dispatched without delay should she wish for a temporary retreat.
This resource, Mary did not neglect. Indeed, she availed herself of it at least once a year, until her husband, having properly considered the matter, discovered that it was far more conducive to his own comfort to align himself with his wife than with a patroness who possessed no means to send him away.
As for Mr. Bingley and his wife, their happiness was of the most steady and unassuming kind.
With three children to occupy their affections, and a disposition equally inclined to kindness and cheerfulness, their household was one in which comfort was never in want, nor good humour long absent.
Mr Bingley, whose generosity had always been among his most distinguishing qualities, was not insensible to the claims of family, though he was, at times, obliged to learn the limits of them.
His sister, Miss Bingley, having at last secured a marriage with an earl whose expectations had been formed rather upon her fortune than her disposition, found her situation less advantageous than she had once imagined.
Her husband’s circumstances, though respectable in appearance, were by no means secure; and it was not long before applications for assistance were made.
Mr Bingley, ever ready to oblige, complied more than once – indeed, more than twice – but, at the earnest and repeated advice of Mr Darcy, was at last persuaded that true kindness did not consist in perpetual indulgence.
From that time forward, his assistance was more judiciously bestowed, and Miss Bingley, though not entirely satisfied, was compelled to accommodate herself to her altered expectations.
Of Mr. Wickham, less need be said. His talents for ingratiating himself were not, in the end, sufficient to secure him either lasting advantage or steady respect.
Having pursued various schemes with more eagerness than prudence, he found himself, as might have been expected, disappointed in most of them.
A modest provision, settled upon him through the intervention of those who wished more for his removal than his prosperity, enabled him to establish himself at a distance from those whose good opinion he had long since forfeited.
There, his fortunes remained uncertain, his habits unchanged, and his prospects no better than they had ever deserved.
As for Elizabeth and Darcy, their happiness admitted of both activity and repose.
They travelled extensively in the years that followed – sometimes in the spring, sometimes in the summer, and sometimes in the autumn – only Elizabeth’s confinements persuading them to remain at home.
In all other respects, they preferred variety to habit, though never at the expense of their duties.
They had four children – three sons and a daughter – whose education and happiness were objects of equal importance to them both.
Though they participated in the life of the ton when necessary, they did so with moderation, seldom remaining in London beyond what was required.
The greater part of the year was spent at Pemberley, where Elizabeth found ample occupation in the care of the estate and its inhabitants, and where Darcy, no less attentive, took increasing pleasure in a life that united responsibility with contentment.
If their former trials were sometimes recalled, it was not with regret, but with a quiet acknowledgement of how much had depended upon them.
For had events unfolded differently – had circumstances delayed, or understanding failed – much might have remained unresolved.
But as it was, what had once been uncertain had been brought, by time, by chance, and by their own better judgement, into a state of lasting happiness.
Had the weather followed its usual course, and the rain fallen as it was expected to do, many meetings might have been delayed, many impressions left unchanged, and many truths discovered too late.
But it did not rain.
And in that small distinction lay all the difference.
THE END