CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
After their visitors had left, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner expressed their favourable opinion of Bingley.
“I can see how one can be partial to such a pleasant and engaging young man,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked. “I admit I had been quite curious to meet him.”
“A gentleman to be sure,” Mr. Gardiner agreed.
Lizzy only nodded. In seeing Bingley, her thoughts had naturally flown to her sister; and, oh!
how ardently did she long to know whether any of his had been directed in a like manner.
She could not be deceived as to his behaviour to Miss Darcy, who had been set up as a rival to Jane.
No look appeared on either side that spoke particular regard.
Nothing had occurred between them that could justify the hopes of his sister.
On this point she had been soon satisfied; and two or three little circumstances occurred ere they had parted, which, in her anxious interpretation, denoted a recollection of Jane not untinctured by tenderness, and a wish of saying more that might lead to the mention of her, had he dared.
His memory had been so exact as to the last date he had seen them—or Jane, rather.
“Miss Darcy did not speak much but seemed to have every appearance of gentility. She is not as handsome as the brother, but there is sense and good humor in her face.”
“I had heard her to be exceedingly proud,” Lizzy said, “but I think her only exceedingly shy.”
“She did speak mostly in monosyllables,” Mr. Gardiner said.
“She is young still, being only six and ten,” Mrs. Gardiner had said, “though her figure be formed and her appearance womanly and graceful.”
Lizzy had come to the quick conclusion that there was nothing to cultivate a dislike of Miss Darcy, whose manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle.
She had been astonished to find the young woman as embarrassed as her.
Lizzy had expected to find in her new acquaintance as acute and unembarrassed an observer as ever Mr. Darcy had been, and had been much relieved by discerning such different feelings.
“And that Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Gardiner said with a curious eye upon Lizzy, “I am quite touched by his politeness. I am inclined to believe his housekeeper’s view of him.”
“She certainly would be the authority,” added Mr. Gardiner, “having known him since he was four years old. Her manners indicate respectability.”
“There is nothing among the intelligence of our friends in Lambton that would contradict her. They have nothing to accuse him of but pride. Pride he probably has, and if not, it would be imputed easily enough by the inhabitants of a small market-town where the family does not visit.”
“However, it is acknowledged that he is a liberal man and does much good among the poor.”
“He discharged the debts that Wickham had left behind here in Derbyshire. I am surprised at how low in estimation that young man is regarded here.”
“I am amazed at the honour of Mr. and Miss Darcy coming to visit us so soon after her arrival. I wonder how to account for such attentions from such a quarter?”
At this, Lizzy begged pardon to return to her room and dress. She had been discomposed and perturbed enough by the visit, and the inquiring looks of her aunt and uncle made everything worse. Alone, she had opportunity to process all that happened in the last half-an-hour.
It was not often that she could turn her eyes on Mr. Darcy himself; but, whenever she had caught a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an accent so removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners which she had yesterday witnessed however temporary its existence might prove, had at least outlived one day.
When she saw him thus seeking the acquaintance and courting the good opinion of people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace—when she saw him civil, not only to herself, but to the very relations whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Hunsford Parsonage—the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her astonishment from being visible.
Never, even in the company of his dear friends at Netherfield, or his dignified relations at Rosings, had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve, as now, when no importance could result from the success of his endeavours, and when even the acquaintance of those to whom his attentions were addressed would draw down the ridicule and censure of the ladies both of Netherfield and Rosings.
Lizzy’s thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not long enough to determine her feelings towards one in that mansion She lay awake two whole hours endeavouring to make them out.
She certainly did not hate him. No, hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him.
The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feeling.
It was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature, by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday had produced.
But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of goodwill which could not be overlooked.
It was gratitude; gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection.
He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister.
Such a change in a man of so much pride exciting not only astonishment but gratitude—for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and as such its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined.
She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on her the renewal of his addresses.
It had been settled in the evening between the aunt and the niece, that such a striking civility as Miss Darcy's in coming to see them on the very day of her arrival at Pemberley, for she had reached it only to a late breakfast, ought to be imitated, though it could not be equalled, by some exertion of politeness on their side; and, consequently, that it would be highly expedient to wait on her at Pemberley the following morning.
They were, therefore, to go. Lizzy was pleased; though when she asked herself the reason, she had very little to say in reply.
Mr. Gardiner left them soon after breakfast. The fishing scheme had been renewed the day before, and a positive engagement made of his meeting some of the gentlemen at Pemberley before noon.
*****
Convinced as Lizzy now was that Miss Bingley's dislike of her had originated in jealousy, she could not help feeling how unwelcome her appearance at Pemberley must be to her, and was curious to know with how much civility on that lady's side the acquaintance would now be renewed.
On reaching the house, they were shown through the hall into the saloon, whose northern aspect rendered it delightful for summer.
Its windows opening to the ground, admitted a most refreshing view of the high woody hills behind the house, and of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts which were scattered over the intermediate lawn.
In this house they were received by Miss Darcy, who was sitting there with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, and the lady with whom she lived in London.
Georgiana's reception of them was very civil, but attended with all the embarrassment which, though proceeding from shyness and the fear of doing wrong, would easily give to those who felt themselves inferior the belief of her being proud and reserved.
Mrs. Gardiner and her niece, however, did her justice, and pitied her.
By Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley they were noticed only by a curtsey; and, on their being seated, a pause, awkward as such pauses must always be, succeeded for a few moments.
It was first broken by Mrs. Annesley, a genteel, agreeable-looking woman, whose endeavour to introduce some kind of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred than either of the others; and between her and Mrs. Gardiner, with occasional help from Lizzy, the conversation was carried on.
Miss Darcy looked as if she wished for courage enough to join in it; and sometimes did venture a short sentence when there was least danger of its being heard.
Lizzy soon saw that she was herself closely watched by Miss Bingley, and that she could not speak a word, especially to Miss Darcy, without calling her attention.
This observation would not have prevented her from trying to talk to the latter, had they not been seated at an inconvenient distance; but she was not sorry to be spared the necessity of saying much.
Her own thoughts were employing her. She expected every moment that some of the gentlemen would enter the room.
She wished, she feared that the master of the house might be amongst them; and whether she wished or feared it most, she could scarcely determine.
After sitting in this manner a quarter of an hour without hearing Miss Bingley's voice, Lizzy was roused by receiving from her a cold inquiry after the health of her family.
She answered with equal indifference and brevity, and the other said no more.
The next variation which their visit afforded was produced by the entrance of servants with cold meat, cake, and a variety of all the finest fruits in season; but this did not take place till after many a significant look and smile from Mrs. Annesley to Miss Darcy had been given, to remind her of her post. There was now employment for the whole party—for though they could not all talk, they could all eat; and the beautiful pyramids of grapes, nectarines, and peaches soon collected them round the table.
In the center was a vase of exquisite lilies.
The pollen, however, seemed to agitate Miss Darcy, who sneezed twice and had to draw out her handkerchief.
“What a lovely piece of linen,” Mrs. Gardiner remarked.
“Thank you,” Miss Darcy replied.
“Such remarkable embroidery.”
Lizzy looked over and felt the blood drain from her face.
“The late Mrs. Darcy had a flare with needlepoint,” Mrs. Annesley supplied. “This particular handkerchief she embroidered only two, one for each of her children.”
Frozen, Lizzy neglected the half-chewed grape in her mouth. As it slipped down her throat, she started to cough. She reached quickly for a drink. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley frowned as if she had choked on purpose.
“My dear, are you all right?” Mrs. Gardiner cried.
Lizzy nodded, but nothing could be further from the truth. She had recognized that handkerchief. Mrs. Annesley had clearly stated only two such handkerchiefs existed. Miss Darcy had been one recipient.
And now Lizzy knew the other.