CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE #2
With this answer Lizzy was forced to be content.
She was not unaware that her strong words regarding her sister might make her the hypocrite.
Who, after all, had committed the greater travesty?
And was it simply the consciousness of the elder to hide her sin while the younger would flaunt hers that allowed the former to judge?
Yes, Lizzy replied to herself, for she possessed a regard for others that Lydia might never have, and a hope that, if her truth remained concealed, no one should come to harm.
Thus, her own opinion on the matter of Lydia continued the same, and she left her father disappointed and sorry.
It was not in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them.
She was confident of having performed her duty, and to fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition.
Had Lydia and her mother known the substance of her conference with her father, their indignation would hardly have found expression in their united volubility.
In Lydia's imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly happiness.
She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing-place covered with officers.
She saw herself the object of attention, to tens and to scores of them at present unknown.
She saw all the glories of the camp—its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet.
To complete the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six officers at once.
But they were entirely ignorant of what had passed, and their raptures continued, with little intermission, to the very day of Lydia's leaving home.
Lizzy was now to see Mr. Wickham for the last time.
Having been frequently in company with him since her return, her agitation was pretty well over and the agitations of formal partiality entirely so.
Now she could not recall his touch upon her without disgust. Though she had, at one time, found his caresses exciting, after her experience at Trenwith House, she doubted that he could ever prove satisfactory any regard.
In his present behaviour to herself, she had a fresh source of displeasure, for the inclination he soon testified of renewing those intentions which had marked the early part of their acquaintance could only serve, after what had since passed, to provoke her.
She lost all concern for him in finding herself thus selected as the object of such idle and frivolous gallantry.
On the very last day of the regiment's remaining at Meryton, he dined, with other of the officers, at Longbourn; and so little was Lizzy disposed to part from him in good humour, that on his making some inquiry as to the manner in which her time had passed at Hunsford, she mentioned Colonel Fitzwilliam's and Mr. Darcy's having both spent three weeks at Rosings, and asked him, if he was acquainted with the former.
He looked surprised, displeased, alarmed; but with a moment's recollection and a returning smile, replied, that he had formerly seen him often. After observing that he was a very gentlemanlike man, he asked her how she had liked him. Her answer was warmly in his favour.
With an air of indifference he soon afterwards added, "How long did you say he was at Rosings?"
"Nearly three weeks."
"And you saw him frequently?"
"Yes, almost every day."
"His manners are very different from his cousin's."
"Yes, very different. But I think Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance."
"Indeed!" cried Mr. Wickham with a look which did not escape her.
"And pray, may I ask?—" But checking himself, he added, in a gayer tone, "Is it in address that he improves?
Has he deigned to add aught of civility to his ordinary style?
For I dare not hope," he continued in a lower and more serious tone, "that he is improved in essentials. "
"Oh, no!" said Lizzy. "In essentials, I believe, he is very much what he ever was."
While she spoke, Wickham looked as if scarcely knowing whether to rejoice over her words or to distrust their meaning.
There was something in her countenance which made him listen with an apprehensive and anxious attention, while she added, "When I said that he improved on acquaintance, I did not mean that his mind or his manners were in a state of improvement, but that, from knowing him better, his disposition was better understood. "
Wickham's alarm now appeared in a heightened complexion and agitated look. For a few minutes he was silent, till, shaking off his embarrassment, he turned to her again, and said in the gentlest of accents,
"You, who so well know my feeling towards Mr. Darcy, will readily comprehend how sincerely I must rejoice that he is wise enough to assume even the appearance of what is right.
His pride, in that direction, may be of service, if not to himself, to many others, for it must only deter him from such foul misconduct as I have suffered by.
I only fear that the sort of cautiousness to which you, I imagine, have been alluding, is merely adopted on his visits to his aunt, of whose good opinion and judgment he stands much in awe.
His fear of her has always operated, I know, when they were together; and a good deal is to be imputed to his wish of forwarding the match with Miss de Bourgh, which I am certain he has very much at heart. "
Lizzy could not repress a smile at this, but she answered only by a slight inclination of the head.
She saw that he wanted to engage her on the old subject of his grievances, and she was in no humour to indulge him.
The rest of the evening passed with the appearance, on his side, of usual cheerfulness, but with no further attempt to distinguish Lizzy They parted at last with mutual civility, and possibly a mutual desire of never meeting again.
When the party broke up, Lydia returned with Mrs. Forster to Meryton, from whence they were to set out early the next morning.
The separation between her and her family was rather noisy than pathetic.
Kitty was the only one who shed tears, but she did weep from vexation and envy.
Mrs. Bennet was diffuse in her good wishes for the felicity of her daughter, and impressive in her injunctions that she should not miss the opportunity of enjoying herself as much as possible—advice which there was every reason to believe would be well attended to, and in the clamorous happiness of Lydia herself in bidding farewell, the more gentle adieus of her sisters were uttered without being heard.