Chapter 2
Since she had grown up, Elizabeth secretly enjoyed having a room for herself in her uncle’s house.
And indeed she awoke somewhat more at ease.
The last days in Kent had been difficult to bear, between the anger left in her heart by Mr Darcy’s proposal and the increasingly cold atmosphere in Charlotte’s house.
Though she had said nothing, Charlotte suspected that an unpleasant scene had passed between her and Mr Darcy.
Her friend of many years, however, was concerned less with Elizabeth’s feelings than with their position with Lady Catherine, which Elizabeth might have endangered.
In evident agreement with her husband, they awaited Elizabeth’s departure while insisting that her sister should remain longer.
The conversation with Mrs Gardiner had done her good, even if it had not brought much clarity, but at least it had helped her to decide that to keep certain secrets from Jane was for her sister’s benefit.
“And Charlotte?” Jane asked the next day, after Elizabeth’s detailed account of Rosings, Lady Catherine, and her two nephews.
They were walking through the neighbourhood where their uncle lived, and often paused to speak with neighbours and friends, because in the ten years during which they had come there several times each year, they had become known to all.
The sun was dazzling, unusual for the middle of April, so they sat on a bench in a small park.
“Our friend Charlotte?” Elizabeth returned, in a level tone, though with a glimmer of irony in her eyes which did not escape her sister. Jane knew her too well, and words were at times unnecessary between them.
Elizabeth sighed, though without pain. “Charlotte is now Mrs Collins. With each day, she forgets what she was and becomes a copy of her husband.”
“I had expected she might change him!”
“We were mistaken. Yet, she is not to be blamed. She could not live with Mr Collins if she did not become like him.”
“How fortunate we are in our father, in our parents, after all. Mama wept and protested when Charlotte married Mr Collins, but she did not reproach us very severely when we did not marry him.”
Elizabeth kept silent since they were upon delicate ground. Their mother had reproached only her, since it had never been supposed that Jane might marry that man, when at that time she was believed destined for the gentleman from Netherfield.
“I long to return home,” said Jane, and she appeared more serene, truly desirous of returning to Longbourn and forgetting that Mr Bingley resided in London.
“How happy Papa will be,” murmured Elizabeth tenderly, imagining him embracing them as soon as they stepped down from the carriage.
That calm moment, which seemed to enfold them both, was broken by the countenances of Mr and Mrs Gardiner, who awaited them in the drawing room.
“What has happened?” Jane asked.
Mr Gardiner cleared his throat, a sign of great disturbance, since he always found his words with ease.
An urgent message had arrived from Meryton.
Addressed to him alone, from Mr Phillips, it contained but two sentences: Mr Bennet had suffered a seizure of the heart, and the girls must return home at once.
That was all, not a word beyond; the distress was plain, and Mr Gardiner did not hesitate.
At a few short orders, the carriage was prepared, and the maids gathered their things, which now waited within it.
“Mr Bennet is unwell,” said Mr Gardiner, striving not to alarm them, yet trusting that, if his brother-in-law had survived the attack, they might believe that the worst was past.
Elizabeth and Jane sank upon the sofa, one on each side of their aunt, who took them in her arms.
“Let us remain calm,” she murmured, wishing her voice to sound more reassuring than she truly felt.
“What has happened?” Elizabeth asked, perhaps wishing to read the letter, yet Mr Gardiner shook his head.
“I know no more, and for that reason I shall accompany you home without delay.”
The resolution that their uncle should attend to them, rather than reassure them, revealed the full gravity of the situation.
“When?” Elizabeth asked, still thinking it might not be so serious.
“Now,” said Mrs Gardiner, assisting them to rise, almost urging them towards departure.
“Now?” cried Jane, looking at Elizabeth, and then at their uncle, who, without a word, led them into the hall, where the butler already held the door open.
Before they could speak again, they found themselves in the carriage, while Mrs Gardiner whispered that all would be well, that they must trust, and other such assurances which ought to have comforted them when the haste of their departure made one truth unmistakable: their father’s condition was grave.
In spite of all that was passing, of their uncle’s and aunt’s concern, even of their departure in such haste, they could not comprehend, in mind or in heart, that their beloved father might be dangerously ill.
Pressed close beside one another, they did not speak; any word might have awakened despair. They might have expected Mr Gardiner to offer some word of encouragement, yet, beyond the orders he gave to the coachman and the two footmen who attended them, he did not utter a single word.
He alone seemed fully to understand the gravity of the situation and knew that he and Mr Phillips must preserve their composure.
But when they arrived at Longbourn, even he was overcome. They were met by Mr and Mrs Phillips, and while she took the girls into her care, her brother-in-law led him into the library, where, until the day before, Mr Bennet had presided.
“How grave is it?” asked Mr Gardiner, once the door had been carefully closed.
“It is grave,” replied the solicitor, accustomed to using the exact words suited to any situation, and never to exaggerate. “I believe he lives only to see Lizzy and Jane.”
Mr Gardiner sank into an armchair, and only after a few moments did he realise that it was Mr Bennet’s own seat, in which neither he nor any other had ever sat. Such considerations, however, were now of no consequence.
“What says the entail?” he asked, with effort, aware that there was no time for unnecessary matters.
Mr Phillips handed him several papers, but though Mr Gardiner took them, he set them at once upon the table beside him. “Please tell me, I am not equal to reading.”
With a sigh of deep distress, Mr Phillips began. “It is simple. They have three months to quit Longbourn.”
“Three months?” cried Mr Gardiner. He would have spoken further, but checked himself at once, fearing that his voice might be heard in the drawing room, where some of the ladies were surely gathered.
“When Mr Collins was here in the winter, I attempted to negotiate a change, to secure six months at least; but he would not consent, saying he would allow them whatever time might be necessary, that he was a man of honour, and there was no need to set it down in writing.”
“What a scoundrel!”
“I urged my brother Bennet then to insist. I tried twice more, as his solicitor, yet he would not yield. Always the same words—that he is family.”
“Could he allow them to remain here, and him to receive the income of Longbourn…at least for a year?”
Mr Phillips shrugged helplessly.
“Let us trust it will not come to that…tragedy,” murmured Mr Gardiner.
“It would be wiser to prepare ourselves with a proper plan, at least between the two of us.”